


The Boy in the Barn

by lollercakes



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: Rachel Lynde always told everyone who would listen that after Matthew Cuthbert's death, Anne Shirley did what Matthew had done as a boy - she went into that barn and never came back out.Anne would say it happened differently. For her, she went back to Green Gables to keep it afloat, working hard to support the struggling finances and be a comfort to Marilla. She went back to try to save the only home she'd ever known. But somehow she got stuck - the life she'd dreamed of drifting further away everyday.Until, that is, a catalyst arrives and everything she'd come to know that was good and certain would once again change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here we have another story I've been procrastinating on since the winter. Work has been insane. Attention has been slim. I've got two other large stories in the works (both spawning from the Fandom Tr*umps Hate auction) so I'm putting this one out there so that I can start focusing on them. I hope you like it :)

“He left?” The words crack out of me, surprise shocking through my body like lightning. Gilbert was gone? Just like that? 

“Yes - Mother said the doctor was in to check on his father and he and prescribed another visit to Alberta where the weather is less damp. Gilbert came over and explained it all to Father in the hopes that we could look in on the farm while they were gone. It was really rather sudden,” Diana explains evenly, her brow lifting as I twist my fingers in my lap. “Anne, are you quite alright? You’re paler than usual.” 

I can hear the roar of blood in my ears, the tears pricking the backs of my eyes and causing me to blink quickly. Looking away from my friend I try to exhale, rolling my shoulders back and sitting up straight. “I’m alright Diana. It must be for the best if the doctor ordered it.” 

She sighs, her fingers coming to grasp mine to draw my attention back to her. “He probably didn’t know how to approach you about it, after what happened at the dance. I’m sure he would appreciate a letter though, once he’s settled. Father was going to receive their address to send on any important correspondence.” 

“If he couldn’t bother to say goodbye, I’m sure he would be just fine without any letters from me prattling on about the happenings here,” I state, stuffing down the want that tries to bubble out of me at the thought of keeping a long distance correspondence with a boy who had only begun to be my friend. No, I couldn’t give into that. Next year I would be at Redmond and life would move on and there would be others to fill the very real void that seemed to be opening with every second longer that I sat in this field with Diana. “I think I best be getting home. Marilla mentioned she needed help with some patchwork this afternoon.” 

Getting to my feet I brush the grass from my dress and straighten my braids, holding out my hand to Diana and letting her pull herself up. We stand there for a moment longer, her dark eyes watching me as I shift and dig my boot into the dirt. 

“I’ll make sure I get his address from Father, when we receive it. Just in case,” she adds, her hand squeezing my shoulder gently. 

I wish I could name the feelings that rippled and bent at that moment, maybe then I could perceive just how I should move forward with the way the news made me want to curl up and cry. Maybe then I would understand how the loss of an almost-friend could make me feel so many things all at once. 

“Thank you, Diana. I hope  _ you _ know better than to leave without saying goodbye.” She smiles sadly and nods, her arms coming to wrap around me. 

“I do. But don’t worry, Anne, it’ll work out in the end.” 


	2. Chapter 2

My bones ache and my hands crack and chafe as I turn out the mare, the rain overhead pounding down on the tin roof of the barn. The early spring chill creeps down my spine as the wind howls, reminding me of the haunting dreams that had plagued me throughout the night. 

Bill collectors, black-smocked doctors and a cough that just wouldn’t abate. These were the things that appeared in my sleep, dark figures that came for everything that I held dear. 

Green Gables had fallen on hard times in the last few years. Ever since returning from school with my teaching certificate I’d stayed close to home, helping to work the farm as Matthew and Marilla started to get on in years. When Matthew died a few years back I fell apart as Marilla held the place together with tacks and weak glue. Since then we’d struggled to truly make ends meet, to keep our home as slight after slight pushed us further underwater. 

Now Marilla was sick too, a cough she’d developed over the winter that I could hear rattling in her lungs at the breakfast table. She tried to assure me that she was alright, that it was nothing to worry over, but we both knew our luck was not enough to make that true. All I could do to keep us afloat was work the farm, to do the very thing that Marilla and the other women in town would lament as unladylike work. 

_ “She’ll never find a husband if she disappears into that barn like Matthew did.” _

Rachel Lynde had not been unkind to me but she’d out and said the very thing I’d already decided was my fate in life. I wouldn’t marry. I wouldn’t teach. I would stay at Green Gables and help keep our home alive for as long as I could. It’s what Matthew had wanted - to give me a home, long after he was gone - and I couldn’t let his hope die because I didn’t work hard enough. 

The bell ringing from the porch catches my attention and I still, closing my eyes as I rest my forehead against the mare’s neck. “Must be dinner,” I whisper, hands drifting along the horse’s warm coat. When no answer comes I push myself back and pull my shawl from the post, wrapping it around my shoulders and racing through the rain towards the house. 

“You’ll catch your death out there!” Marilla scolds as I stumble into the mud room, collapsing onto the bench and bending to remove my boots. 

“I’m fine, Marilla. I promise. Just a little damp,” I reply and when safely free of tracking mud through the house I come to the woman’s side, lifting my hand to her shoulder. “What have we for dinner today?” 

“Stew, again. I know you’re tired of it but - “ 

“Oh, I’m not. I was simply remarking that we have it often enough. I didn’t say that I didn’t like it,” I insist, settling at the table and lifting a slice of bread to my lips. Marilla rolls her eyes and sets the bowl before me, sitting down with a cough that she tries to hide. “Are you feeling any better? Did you sleep through the night?”

“I’m fine! I wish you to stop watching me like a hawk and eat before it gets cold.” I tuck my head at her scolding, the metal of the spoon’s handle biting into my palm as I fight the urge to respond. A fight would do us no good - I’d learned that well enough these last few years. 

“Alright. How about I tell you what work I plan to finish today?” The woman nods as she spoons the liquid into her mouth. “Well, morning chores are complete. I need to turn over the hay this afternoon and then there’s a few shoes I need to clean. I had planned to look through the toolshed and reorganize it but with the rain I think I’ll avoid that. Maybe I’ll start on checking over the plow - get it ready for when the ground is thawed enough to start - “ 

“Anne,” she interjects quietly, her eyes catching mine as I look towards her. Her expression softens and I look towards the table, avoiding the way her gaze seems to burn me. “I’d like to talk again about selling the farm. Another year of this - it’s not right, is all. You belong - “ 

“Here, with you Marilla,” I bite back, dropping the spoon to the table with a clatter. My hands come up to cover my face and I press my fingers into my eyes, staving off the tears that fight to come to the surface. Every time,  _ every time _ , we had this conversation it hurt more and more. 

“No - you belong out in the world. Teaching. Studying. Writing. Anything but wasting away here doing farmwork like some hired hand!” Marilla’s pitch rises along with the colour in her neck, her fists clenching as she tries to contain herself. We both knew if she said what she wanted it would be a step too far, a place we might not come back from. 

Both of us had stepped around it for the past year and it only became more apparent with every month that we moved closer to Minnie May’s wedding. As we moved closer to the reminder that I was still very much alone, unlikely to find myself a suitor if I was hidden away doing farm chores. 

“I’m content where I am, Marilla. Why do you think I want for more? Can’t I be happy here, helping you run the farm?” I ask lowly, glancing up at her and then looking back towards the bowl in front of me. 

“You may be that but I know you well enough that I know this isn’t what you dreamed about for your life. We worked so hard to send you to Queens and Redmond - to better yourself so that you could go after what you wanted - and now here you are, forced to do a man’s work. It’s like we’ve only worked you into a circle!” 

“But I can’t bear to lose Green Gables! Can’t you see that it’s my home? I cannot simply let it be sold off so that I can what - go and find a husband? With hair like this? And a body built from running a farm?” I scold myself internally as I remember the way this argument always played out with her.  _ Looks aren't everything. Don’t be vain.  _

“Mr Lynde is not doing well and Rachel has asked me if, when the time comes, I will move and live with her. If we sold the farm then you wouldn’t have to worry about me - I’d have someone still to take care of me.” Marilla’s voice wavers, the lack of thwarting of my self-depreciation causing me to stare at her in surprise. “I wouldn’t be a burden to you anymore.” 

I feel her admission hit me like a hoof to the chest and I stumble to my knees beside her chair, my hands pulling hers tightly into mine. “You are no burden, Marilla. You’re my family. You’re the only family I have left.”

“Family can still be a burden, child,” she adds, her fingers coming to graze along the side of my face. I lean into her touch, tears begging to fall as the choice looms before us. 

She was right. We should sell the farm and move on. We should go our separate ways and try to find happy paths to walk along. But I couldn’t. 

“I don’t want to sell, Marilla. I don’t want to give up the only home I’ve ever known.” Above me she sighs, leaning down to press a kiss to my brow. 

“Finish your stew before you go back out there then,” she instructs and gets to her feet, disappearing into the sitting room and leaving me lingering at the side of the kitchen table. 

* * *

“I’m heading into town today Marilla, did you need anything?” I ask, poking my head through the kitchen door and smiling towards the woman. She glances towards me, her brow furrowed in a look I’m all too familiar with now.

“Nothing I won’t get when we go Monday. Is there anything pressing that needs to be done?” She asks, setting down the bowl she’d been stirring and resting her hands on her hips. 

“I’d like to put an ad in the paper before the weekend. Try to rouse up a hand to help with the sowing at the end of the month,” I reply and watch as she closes her eyes, a swift shake of her head telling me all I need to know. “I can manage it just fine - but someone to help with the lifting would be useful this year. You remember how heavy those seed bags were and you’re in no shape this year to help.” 

Silence spreads between us and I watch as she rubs her fingers across the bridge of her nose, the tell-tale sign of one of her migraines coming on giving me pause. Was today too much to push? 

“Fine - but ask around first and see if you can find anyone before you spend the money. That’s what Matthew used to do,” she adds, turning back towards the counter and dismissing me. 

I take the answer as a break and head back to the barn to saddle the mare, debating for a moment whether to go back in the house and put on a dress before going into town. It wouldn’t be the first time the townspeople had seen a woman in a pair of trousers - Ms Stacey used to do it all the time and I’d occasionally taken up the reins now that I spent more time in the barn than inside sewing quilts. But still - the possibility of another crude comment from one of the Pye’s gave me pause. 

“Don’t let them get to you, Anne,” I hiss as I tighten the straps on the saddle, looking down at my boots and the brown fabric I’d stitched together following one of Matthew’s pants as a pattern. “No one has the right to judge you for what you must do. No one can judge you for doing what is needed.” 

Without another thought on the matter I lead the mare out to the gate and climb up, taking off towards Avonlea with a determined pace. The small town comes into view and I slow the horse’s pace, trotting towards the edges of town and then slipping from its back. Before I turn onto the main street I pause and tuck my hair under my hat, a self-conscious moment bubbling up inside me. 

I head first towards the general store, following Marilla’s recommendations and chatting with the attendant on any rumours they’d heard ahead of the coming planting season about available farm hands. 

“I’m sorry Anne - I only know of the Miller household and I believe all their sons have found work already. It  _ is _ a bit late in the season to be looking, you know that right?” Beth Chambers states, her eyes sparkling as she watches me rub my face. 

“Yes - I imagined so but I had hoped. I thought I’d try to do it again on my own this year but Marilla’s doing poorly and I can’t ask her to do the work I need. Will you let me know if you hear of anyone?” I press, pleased when she nods quickly and shoots me a sympathetic smile. 

“Definitely. I’ll send them right up your way if anyone comes looking for odd jobs.” I nod at that and tip my hat towards her, heading back out into the street with my hands in my pockets. 

I busy myself at two other shops before I stall at the window to the clothing store, a beautiful green dress in the window catching my eye and making me pause. The deep emerald is unlike anything I’ve seen before and I nearly moan in delight at the sight of it, my mind alighting with possibilities of me dancing through crowds with the vibrant skirts swirling around me. 

Reality slams back into me as a hand lands on my shoulder, the touch making me jump as I look over to see Diana staring at me. “Anne - is that you?” She asks brightly, her eyes widening as she pulls me into her embrace. I wrap her up in my arms, savouring her enthusiasm and energy as she leans back. “My, what are you wearing? And that hat! It practically hides all of your hair!” 

“Oh Diana, it’s good to see you! Please don’t tease me about my outfit, I’m still adjusting to being off the farm in something as unbecoming as a pair of trousers!” I counter and she laughs, her palm coming to rest against my cheek.

“You are as lovely as ever, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” she affirms with a telling smile, her words giving me permission to be comfortable once more in my own skin. 

“Thank you. How are things? How is preparation for the wedding coming?” I ask and lead us towards the bench along the walkway, sitting down beside her as she sighs and pretends to faint. 

“They’re absolute madness! So many decisions and mother - oh goodness mother! You wouldn’t believe the conditions she’s set on dear Minnie May! She’s practically spinning out of her mind with everything. I can’t wait for it all to be over at the end of the summer. To think - we’ll both finally be married!” 

“And she’ll be such a lovely bride too! I simply cannot wait for the party - I promise not to wear pants to it,” I add and she giggles, a bright sound that warms my soul. 

“I won’t worry - you’ll be in your best dress, of course. We’ll ensure there’s no trace of the farm on you for the whole evening,” she adds softly and shifts her gaze up to meet mine once more. “How are things on the farm? How is Marilla?” 

“Well enough, I suppose. I’m here to put a listing in the paper to try to secure some extra hands but otherwise it’s all under control. Marilla still has that cough but at least now she’s up and about around the house, so that’s much improved.” The words tear at me as I utter them, the truth more painful than I was willing to admit, even to Diana. 

I couldn’t tell her of our fights, of the way I sometimes stayed up at night listening to the hacking coughs that echoed down the hall. These were truths that needed to stay hidden behind the walls at Green Gables, lest someone were to come and try to seize the property from us when we were at our weakest. It was a slim possibility but one I had to be cautious of, even with my dearest of friends. 

“Oh Anne - I’m glad to hear she’s recovering but it does trouble me to know you’re going to need to bring on extra help when everything is so tight. Is there anything that we can do - anything to help share the load?” 

My eyes fill as she offers, my throat tightening as I shake my head and look away. “No, that’s alright Di. We’ll get through, I promise. Please don’t add us to the long list of worries you’re surely keeping right now!” 

“It would be my pleasure to worry about you, Anne,” she whispers before pulling me into her embrace. I revel in it until I eventually have to pull away, straightening the hat on my head. 

“I guess I’m off to the post office. Wish me luck!” I bid and stand up, turning on my heel and heading towards the end of the street. 

Half an hour later I’m back on the mare and heading towards home, a small hope growing in my chest as I look out at the prospects before me. If I was able to hire a hand, even for just the next month, I could finally start to get ahead on the list of things that needed to get done. Maybe I’d even have enough time to daydream in the summer heat, even for just a day, before the fall harvest came knocking and the cold winter slammed into us once more. 

With a sigh and a determined step, I force myself not to focus on the way the world turns, choosing instead to act on the here and now. 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s almost a week before anyone arrives as a result of the ad. The first two candidates I turn away because they’re just children - boys who would have been in my class had I still been teaching at the Avonlea school. Little taller than the bags of seed I so needed help with. 

The third candidate who arrives seems alright, at least until he demands I  _ head on inside like a real lady _ , his condescending attitude and leering gaze making me dismiss him before any work can even start to get done. 

By Saturday evening I’m exhausted, curled up next to the fire with a book in hand and my eyes fighting to stay open as I re-read the same sentence through twice. 

“Might as well go on up to bed, Anne, before you fall asleep right there on the floor,” Marilla suggests, a smile on her face as she watches me over her knitting. I roll languidly onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, my nails picking absently at the calluses on my hands. 

“I don’t know if I’m going to find anyone to help me Marilla,” I groan, pointedly not looking at her and what I can only imagine is an  _ I told you so _ smile. 

“I wouldn’t worry just yet. We can still ask around at church on Sunday, if you’re still convinced this is the best plan, that is.” I close my eyes at that, letting my imagination linger on the idea of building a life away from Green Gables. 

“I am. At least for now,” I add as the picture in my mind’s eye sours. I don’t look happy in that world, away from home and with nowhere to go when it all gets to be too much. If I didn’t have the farm and Marilla, would I even belong anywhere? Would I be an orphan once more?

“Alright - then we’ll see what we can dredge up. There’s got to be one or two folks around who can spare a hand for a few days, the community hasn’t let us down before, no need to start now,” she pauses, setting her knitting in the bag at her feet. I can hear her getting up and walking towards me, her wide smile greeting me as she leans down to face me. “Come now - let’s get you to bed. Cows won’t milk themselves in the morning.” 

I take her outstretched hand and clamour to my feet, linking our arms together as we head towards the staircase. I follow behind her, careful to observe as she takes the stairs slowly, her knuckles white as she grips the railing. 

We bid our goodnights in the hall and I find myself crawling into bed in my nightgown with an ache in my body, the day’s work quickly pulling me into a dreamland that follows me throughout the night. 

Church the next day is a welcome break from the rigour of farmwork and I dress in my Sunday finest, the conservative blue outfit hiding the bruises and marks I’ve earned from readying the ground for sowing at the end of the month. With my hair in a tight coil at my neck I steer the buggy confidently towards the churchyard, securing it before hopping down gracelessly and assisting Marilla onto level ground. 

Inside the building we start our campaign, asking around to the families we know may be able to help us. Soon after word spreads and the community is alive with rumours of our  _ struggles _ and  _ hardships _ . I try not to let the hushed comments get to me, instead settling myself into a bench at the back of the room as Marilla continues to converse with our neighbours. 

“You’re letting your pride get ahead of you, Anne,” Marilla whispers when she eventually comes to sit beside me, her steely eyes catching mine as I glance towards her. “I know what they’re saying doesn’t give the best impression but you mustn't let it rile you. You need help and admitting that is not a weakness.” 

“I’m quite aware. I just wish they didn’t have to exclaim it so viciously,” I hiss. Beside me the woman laughs, her hand coming to rest over mine. 

“The Pye’s will always get under your skin. No getting around that.” 

We settle in for the service and I try my hardest to focus on the sermon though at times I know for a fact that my attention has slipped, Marilla’s elbow finding its way between my ribs on more than one occasion. 

Back at Green Gables I change into an old house dress, one with enough rips and tears to make me comfortable cleaning out the stalls and I head into the barn for the afternoon to leave Marilla with her baking projects. 

With my hair stuck to my forehead and the smell of animal surrounding me I lose track of time, my imagination finding itself anywhere but here for the next few hours. 

“Hello?” The smooth voice catches me off guard and I look up at the shadowed figure standing in the door the barn, the afternoon light creating a halo around him and masking his face. For a moment a brief thrill runs through me, whether from fright or delight I’m not sure, and I grip my hands tighter around the rake in my grasp. “Anne?” 

“How do you know my name? Did Marilla send you?” I ask, hesitation building as I watch the figure take a step towards me. I lift my hand to try to block some of the sun, taking a step slowly towards him. “I asked her to walk down any candidates so I’m not sure if - “ 

“It’s actually you,” he mumbles, a bark of laughter causing a shiver to run down my spine. If I was going to die, I’d rather it happen in any other outfit than the one I was currently in - anything but this worn mess of ripped fabric. Anything. 

“Look sir, I’m not sure what you’re after but if you’re here for the work - “ 

“Anne, it’s me,” he interrupts, stepping fully into the dim light of the barn. My teeth set on edge as he gets closer, my body prepared to strike if he got too close. 

That’s when I see his face. The wide smile. The hazel eyes and hair long enough to curl just that little bit. 

“I can’t believe you’re still here - after all this time! I thought for sure - “ 

“Gilbert Blythe, what in the name of God are you doing in my barn?” I shout, imprudence snapping out of me as I drop the rake. My mouth dries at the sight of him and my heart triples its beat, a rush of blood coming from my chest into my head and making me hot with fevered surprise. 

It had been nearly a decade since he’d left for Alberta without saying goodbye. Almost ten years since we last spoke about our goals, about the worlds we’d wanted to rule at the end of our schooling. Now he was here, in my barn, staring at me in the worst dress I owned as I likely stank of animal and sweat. 

“I - I…” He stutters, his hand coming up to rub through his hair distractedly before he takes a step towards me. Instinctively I step back, my eyes wide as he holds up his hands to calm me. “I mean no harm, Anne! I - I came to say hello is all.” 

The shock of his arrival leaves me without words, my teeth biting anxiously into my lip as I watch him watch me. I didn’t know what to do with him. Not then. Not now. Surely I was in the middle of some waking nightmare that I was going to break from at any minute. Lifting my hand pointedly I pinch my arm and wait for the apparition to disappear, panic coming to the forefront of my mind as still he remains steadfast before me. 

“I can - I see that maybe you’re surprised - rightly so - by me just showing up here. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t - I mean, I just - I heard at church you needed help,” he adds, his hands moving fitfully as he talks. I watch as his fingers flex and his expression shifts, his smile filling his features as the old feelings I’d long since hidden away come fluttering back to the surface. “It’s so good to see you. You have no idea how good it is.” 

“You’re here? For the farmhand job?” I reply dumbly, forcing myself to lean down and pickup the rake with more force than necessary. 

“Um, yes. I guess I am,” he replies. With a weary gaze I look him over, his suit from church wrinkled but the white linen still bright. He looked too well kept to be working on a farm, like he hadn’t done hard labour since he moved away all those years ago. But still he was tall and sturdy, the likeliness of him being able to lift what I couldn’t coming to the forefront of my mind. 

“Okay then. Let’s give it a shot this afternoon. I need the plow taken out into the yard so I can look it over in the light tomorrow. Then I need the seed brought down from the loft. Do you think you can handle that?” I try to focus on the tasks, urging my mind to think about anything other than the fact that it was Gilbert Blythe standing before me and not some boy from another farm. 

“Got it. I can definitely do that,” he adds and begins to shrug off his jacket and waistcoat to place them on a post near the mare’s stall. 

“Is that all you have to work in?” I press, looking his nice suit over with a raised brow. 

“Today, yes. But I have other things I can wear tomorrow - better suited for the work.” With a nod I turn away, heading into the rear of the barn to put some space between us. I needed a minute. I needed a lifetime. Glancing back towards him I watch with my tongue between my teeth as he rolls up his white shirtsleeves, my mind damning itself as my heart flops gracelessly in my chest. 

What kind of kismet shambles had I woken up to today?

* * *

“Who is that dragging the plow into the yard?” Marilla asks as I settle onto the bench beside the porch door, leaning down to remove my boots with a groan. 

“You don’t want to know,” I reply, feeling her eyes bore into the side of my head. 

“Anne, what have you gotten us into now?” With a frustrated kick of my feet I shake the leather loose and look up at her, a heavy sigh escaping from me. 

“Gilbert Blythe is apparently home and wanting to work the farm for us. I didn’t know how to tell him no when I need the help so badly, so I just didn’t talk to him at all,” I admit to the woman’s yelp of laughter, her hand clapping over her mouth as she sees the flash of hurt come over my face. 

“I find it hard to believe that you didn’t corner him with questions - that is quite unusual for you.”

“I know. Which made it even more awkward when he said he wanted the job. Did you know he was home? Diana didn’t even mention it to me and she typically has her hands in all of these matters… Oh well, no time to dwell on that. He’s just finishing that job up and then I told him to head for home,” I add and sigh as I look out to see him deftly moving the metal contraption to the flat part of the yard. 

The mix of feelings in my chest churns, new thoughts and fears bubbling to the surface as I watch him in the distance. Did I need help this desperately? Did I even understand why I was having such a problem with it being him, of all people? The second thought gives me pause and it follows me for the rest of the day, coming once more to the surface as I sit in the wide metal tub and scrub the mud from my hands. 

I had no ill will towards Gilbert Blythe. Not really. He’d made the choice as a boy to travel with his father somewhere where he could get better - I couldn’t begrudge him for that. He hadn’t owed me anything then and he still didn’t now. So why then had I been so cold when he’d shown up? Why had I not asked him about how his father was doing? About why he’d come back to Avonlea after all this time? 

“Because you’re selfish and he caught you by surprise,” I mutter under my breath, dropping the scrub brush in the water and leaning my head back to look at the ceiling. 

I should have handled today better. We were once almost friends. Didn’t that mean that bridges were able to be repaired? A heavy sigh escapes me then as the realization comes over me. Gilbert had been someone on which my young self had tied threads of attachment and he’d broken them without so much as a farewell. It had hurt. Plain and simple. His leaving had opened a wound that I’d never really addressed and now he was back in my life in just as abrupt a manner as he had left, re-opening things I’d long since ignored. 

“Anne, are you nearly done yet? The water has to be half ice by now!” Marilla calls through the door. I close my eyes and push myself upward, drying off before pulling the robe tightly around my shoulders. 

“I’m done now. Sorry - I got caught up in my head again,” I say and open the door to allow her into the small space. Together we drag the tub of water to the porch and dump it out, the still-warm water hitting the ground and steaming in the cool evening chill. 

“What time did Gilbert say he would be back tomorrow? Or did you think by not giving him instruction he just wouldn’t show again?” Marilla asks as she turns the tub over to dry in the mudroom. I watch as she moves about the kitchen smoothly and smile, seeing the bright hope of health in her step. 

“Believe you me, I am half convinced we both shared a vision this afternoon seeing him in our yard. He’s likely still back in Alberta, tending to a young family,” I state unevenly, clearing my throat to cover the way the thought feels tight in my chest. 

_ His family _ . Gilbert probably had a family by now. Some cute little children with chubby cheeks, their father’s dark curls. Two boys, hellions just like their father and a dear doting daughter. It hurt to imagine and that was the most cruel revelation of all.

“Come back from whatever faraway land you’ve gone to Anne - we surely didn’t see ghosts in the yard. He’ll be back again tomorrow, just like when he was younger. Couldn’t get that boy to stay away long enough for you to do your chores then - “ 

“And now he’ll be helping me do them! Oh Marilla, how the tables have turned!” I exclaim brightly and she turns with her hands full of biscuits, one being forced into my mouth to quiet me and the other stuffed into my hand. 

“Go get your nightgown on child, I’ll just finish here with the tea and we can have a cup before we turn in. Go!” She shoos me from the room and I nibble on the biscuits as I head up to my room. 

I change quickly and when we’re both settled into the sitting room, tea at hand and the fireplace crackling before us, I finally take a moment to process the reality of the situation. We hadn’t talked today about any of the details - when he should come to work, how long I needed him to commit to, or even what he would be paid. These were all things that I needed to broach before we got down to it tomorrow, lest he be unable to agree to what we needed. Especially if the wages I had to offer were insufficient - surely he couldn’t support a family on what I could afford and that thought bothered me more than I was willing to admit. 

“We could still hold out for another labourer, Anne,” Marilla breaks into my thoughts, her pointed gaze aimed towards me as I glance back at her. “If you felt that it wouldn’t be a productive agreement. You don’t have to settle on the first able-bodied man to come around.” 

“I know. I know that. But what if no one comes after him? He carried most of the bags down from the loft today without any help. That would have taken me the full week! I can’t do this on my own - not yet at least - and to turn him away for no reason would be unkind - “ 

“It’s not no reason, child. I can see this makes you uncomfortable and while I don’t truly know why, I can see by the look that’s come over your expression that it’s not something you’re taking lightly. I don’t wish you to be unhappy, this place isn’t worth your happiness,” she adds softly. I feel the woman’s understanding wrap around me like a warm blanket and I get up and go to her, settling at the foot of her chair and letting her closeness give me comfort. 

Tomorrow would be another day and I would face it head on, assured in what I needed to do to keep the farm alive. If letting Gilbert work here would mean we got to keep our home, I would do it. I would tuck away all the old hurt and confusion that the boy had caused and try to see this as a new start for us both. He would be a new stranger to me and the past would be just that, past. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off! Thank you for checking in, interacting, enjoying!


	4. Chapter 4

“You actually came,” I whisper as Gilbert finds me mid-morning in the barn. I’m already through part of the list I’d prepared the night before, hopeful that if I were to get it done early I could enjoy an afternoon under the sun. 

“Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?” His voice lilts and a smile appears on his face, the boyish expression catching me off guard with how it managed to be both familiar and still somehow foreign. It was the smile I’d dreamt about last night, unsure and yet somehow certain as we roamed the Island together like we had always meant to. The image of it flashes in my mind and I nearly stumble, swallowing thickly as I try to clear my throat. 

“Yes - I mean, I guess I just thought - oh it doesn’t matter. We should probably sort out expectations before we get too focused on the work. I need a hand from now until about mid-May to get the sowing done. I won’t need help over the summer months because I’ve managed to do that for the last few years on my own so you won’t need to be on hand then. If you were available, we can always use an extra bit of help in harvest, but I understand if perhaps you have other commitments there. I can’t pay much but - “ 

“It’s okay, I’ll take any work you have. The family farm isn’t ready to be up and running this year so I have time. How are you? How’s Marilla?” He interjects and I stumble over my words, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“We’re fine. I - I need the rest of the seed brought down. And then I need an inventory of what we have so I can go to the store tomorrow and make the orders. I’m going to be out with the plow but come find me if you have any questions, okay?” I try to remain calm, to ignore the hum in my blood as he smiles down at me, but eventually all I can do is escape from the close quarters with an excuse to look at the heavy metal plow and all its joints needing grease.

Time seems to fly by as I crawl around the large machine, a canister of oil at my side and a blackened rag in my hand as I grease the nuts and bolts. So consumed in my work I barely notice when a shadow drifts over me, the break in the sunlight almost a relief in the heat of the afternoon. 

“You missed a spot,” Gilbert’s voice calls down to me and I jerk my head up, yelping in pain as the smooth metal cracks against my forehead. “Oh shoot - Anne! I’m sorry!” He apologizes and hurries to reach for my arm, pulling me out from under the machine with ease. 

Settled on the ground at his feet I lift an edge of my skirt to press at the wound and he growls and pushes my hand away, carefully holding a clean handkerchief to my brow instead. 

“You can’t put dirt in the wound, Anne. You’ll get an infection and then who knows what,” he states, lifting the now stained white fabric away to check the cut. It throbs with every thump of my blood and he sighs, holding it back to my head as he kneels beside me. “Head wounds always bleed a fair bit. It’ll stop though - it’s not too deep.” 

“Thank you, but I think I can handle it from here,” I hiss and push his hand away to hold the square to my own skin, hoping some distance would steady my emotions. His hands drop to his sides and he eases onto his backside, watching me with an even gaze. 

“It’s been a long time,” he pauses, dark eyes following me as I look off towards the house. To anywhere but back at him. “I see you’re still as stubborn as you were. Has anything really changed around here?” 

“Excuse you, I have changed quite a bit I’ll have you know.” The indignance in my voice causes him to chuckle and I glance back at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw and the way it clenches with unsaid words. “Why are you here?” I watch as he shifts and ducks his head, his arms coming to wrap around his knees. 

“I got tired of Alberta, I guess. Why? Can’t a boy come back to his homestead?” 

“I never said you couldn’t. I just don’t understand why. How is your father?” The question slips ungracefully from me and I internally kick myself at the way he recoils, his expression hardening before he meets my gaze. 

“He died a few years ago,” he replies tightly and it’s my turn to flush, the apology spilling from me. 

“I’m so sorry, Gil,” I breathe, the hurt that crosses his features burns into me and I groan, dropping my head to my knees. “That was a foolish thing for me to bring up and I am sorry to have upset you.” 

“It’s fine. It’s been long enough, I should be able to talk about it now. Besides, I was able to get a few good years with him before he passed, ones I wouldn’t have gotten if we’d stayed,” he adds softly. I notice then that the initial burn of the question has faded and I find my body pulled towards his, my mind picturing me pulling him into a crushing hug. 

But I can’t give in. “Why don’t we call it a day? You’re probably done with the seed, right?” 

“Yeah I am. We don’t have to wrap up though if you still - “

“I think we’re okay. Really. Thank you for all the help today.”

“It’s not a problem, I’m glad to help. Make sure to clean that cut and put something on it tonight. I’ll be back at daybreak tomorrow to get an earlier start, okay?” I nod and watch him go through the gate and back over the small hills between our property. 

When he’s finally gone from sight I ease myself back onto the ground and watch the clouds overhead, my mind spinning with thoughts and possibilities. If his father had died years ago, why only now had he returned? If that was not the catalyst then Gilbert returning to Avonlea was a different picture altogether. 

Back inside the house I let Marilla fuss over my cut, hissing through the sting of the ointment and letting her patch it up before she sends me to get cleaned up for dinner. I spend the remainder of the evening working on a task list for the coming week, something that we could check off as we went to show progress and determine what needed to be done next. It would also likely limit the number of interactions we had and I said a small prayer at that, knowing it was best to avoid growing attached when he was probably going to disappear again over the summer. 

The next morning Marilla and I are settled in the barn milking the cows when a fit of coughing strikes her. I watch from my stool a few feet away as she vibrates with the effort. When I get to my feet, concerned at the paleness of her skin, she turns and glares at me. 

“Don’t - It’s fine!” She coughs, covering her mouth as a furious round steals her breath. I try to do as she says, to keep rooted to my spot, but I can’t sit idly by as I watch her struggle to catch her breath. In another second I’m stepping towards her, determined to disobey, when another body crowds into the small space and kneels before her. 

“Ms Cuthbert! Are you alright?” Gilbert asks over her cough, his hand rubbing circles across her back as her breathing once more starts to even out. 

“I’m - I’m quite fine! If you all would just leave me be!” She gasps and jerks to her feet, her hand steadying herself on the stall as she stalks away from us both. We watch her go, shock palpable in the air as she disappears into the house. 

“I should - “ I start and Gilbert turns to me, his skin white. 

“Yes. Go make sure she’s okay. Some honey tea might help. I’ll deal with this.” He instructs and I run towards the house, slapping open the kitchen door and thankful to see Marilla sitting at the kitchen table. 

“You should be out working. Don’t worry about me,” she growls, her chin resting in her hand. 

“I would never do something as whimsical as worry about  _ you _ , Marilla. I came in to check on the coffee,” I lie. She shakes her head and with a scowl, motioning to the stove. 

“I’ll have it on shortly. Go on back out there.” 

“I will. Let me just get this started and then I’ll head back. No - don’t argue with me. I want my coffee and you know how I get when I don’t have it in the mornings. Gilbert wouldn’t last the day around me,” I chide and she laughs, a spell of hiccuping coughs making my shoulders tense for a moment. 

When the water is on and I’ve set three mugs aside I settle onto the bench next to her and rest my head on her shoulder. In her lap I link my fingers with hers and feel her relax against me. 

“I guess a trip to see the doctor is on your list somewhere?” Marilla asks as the kettle starts to boil behind us. I nod against her shoulder and she sighs, squeezing my hand in hers. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m sure too. But I’d like a second opinion,” I add and lean back to watch her smile sadly. 

“When did we turn the corner to have  _ you _ take care of  _ me _ ?” She asks. 

“I think we’re about even now.” She rolls her eyes at that and then pulls away, getting to her feet to start preparing the warm drinks. 

With two coffees in my hands I step out onto the porch and watch as Gilbert walks towards us, his hands full with the two buckets of fresh milk we’d collected. 

“He has grown up quite well,” Marilla whispers as he gets closer, a bright smile on his face. 

“Yes. And he can do twice the work I can in half the time. I hate him a bit for it,” I admit as he comes into range. Marilla chuckles beside me and takes the buckets from his hands with a quiet thanks. 

“Is that for me?” He asks, reaching his hand towards one of the cups of coffee I’d forgotten I was holding. I nod and hand it to him, curious as he sips the hot liquid and closes his eyes as though in supreme pleasure. “This is just what I needed. Thank you.” 

“I should be thanking you - you’re here early.” 

“I said I would be - is that - I mean, should I not be?” His eyes spark and I shrug, stepping out off the porch and heading back towards the barn. He follows close beside me, though he takes half the steps I do to keep up. 

“It’s fine. It actually works with what I’m planning - I have a list. You can check it for what needs to be done when you get here. That way if I’m gone or in the middle of something you don’t have to bother me to find out what needs to be done.” 

“Am I bothering you?” He slows his step and I turn to him, a flush coming up my neck. 

“No - I just mean, it lets you work on whatever schedule you need. If you have to get home or something then you can come in and do some of the tasks that need to get done and go when you need to. I - it’s that I trust you to do the work is all,” I add quietly. There’s a pause between us then as he turns the thoughts over, his jaw clenching. 

“I see. Well, okay then. Why don’t you show me where it is and we can get started?” Nodding, I lead him into the barn and show him to the post where I’ve hung up my list on a piece of wood. We easily talk through the tasks and he makes little notations next to the things that we both know I can’t do alone, a segregation of duties coming easily to the forefront. 

It’s later in the afternoon when I lean against my fork in the loft and watch Marilla come down from the house, her arms carrying a tray of food for us. Gilbert jogs out to meet her and I watch as they converse, his hands quick to take the food from her as I say a small thanks for his thoughtfulness. 

When they continue walking towards the barn I take my cue and climb down from the rafters, meeting them at the door with a wide smile. “Is it tea time already?” I ask, watching Marilla as she shifts to sit on a bale of hay. 

“It would appear so - Ms Cuthbert was just telling me she was wondering when you would be heading to town,” Gilbert adds, his brow raised as he sets the tray between us. I shrug and look at Marilla, wondering what else they had managed to squeeze into that short conversation. “She was thinking maybe I should go with you - help you with the loading.” 

“That’s not necessary. I can manage quite alright on my own since it’s just filling out order slips,” I grumble, sipping at my tea while turning my attention to the floor. 

“Are you sure Anne? Remember last time, when you thought you were only going in for ordering but you came back with all of our winter stock because it was on sale?” Marilla interjects, a sparkle in her eye as she watches me squirm. 

“I’m sure. I won’t go on any shopping spree today, I promise.” Finishing my snack and getting back to my feet, I look around at the two and sigh, dismissing myself back to the loft and leaving them to catch up. 

From my place among the rafters I listen to their laughter, their quiet conversation barely audible but still grating against me as I work myself into a sweat. When eventually Marilla excuses herself I find myself staring at the inventory list and glancing towards where Gilbert has tucked himself into the mare’s stall, eager for him to leave so that I can ready the horse myself. 

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to walk with me to the gate?” Gilbert asks across the space, his hand on the mare’s reins as he leads her towards the barn door. She’s fully saddled, ready for me to climb aboard, and I groan inwardly at the thoughtfulness of this man. 

“You didn’t need to do that, I’m perfectly capable to ready her myself,” I state, coming alongside him as we walk towards the white gate. 

“Never said you weren’t. Figured after forking that hay you’d want to get out into the breeze as soon as possible,” he adds and slows his pace before turning to me. “Need a step up?” He offers, linking his hands together and squatting next to the horse. 

“I can get up myself, thank you,” I reply and maneuver around him. Lifting my leg into the stirrup I falter as the dress rides up my leg, my skin exposed and causing me to scramble backwards in embarrassment. My body flushes with it and I groan inwardly at the foolhardy move. 

“Figured that might happen. Still willing to give you a hand,” he whispers behind me, thankfully not remarking on the red blush that has risen to my cheeks. With a huff I step into his linked hands and let him lift me high enough to place my foot in the stirrup, my other leg swinging around the horse’s back to sit solidly in the saddle. “You’re welcome, Anne,” he mumbles, his steady expression giving way to a bright smile as I shake my head towards him. 

“Thank you, Gilbert. I hope you’re not here when I get back,” I bid and kick the horse forward, breathing a sigh of relief as I move out of the yard and onto the road. 

“See you tomorrow!” He shouts across the distance and as I turn the corner I see him watching me go, his hand lifted in farewell as I exhale the breath I’d been holding. 

This was going to be a long season. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye olde revelations are held in these words. Hoping they bring ye joy.

A week passes. The days are filled with awkward conversations, subtle avoidances and careful agreements settled over shared lunches. At some point I know the dam will break and I’ll be forced to face the fact that I couldn’t keep this barrier between us - I’d have to give in to his kindness and stop rejecting the basic premises of his questions. 

Eventually, I’d have to be kinder to Gilbert Blythe, even though the thought of it frustrated me to no end. 

I’d turned the idea over throughout the evenings as I pretended to read by the fire, my mind carefully going through each interaction from the day and building a chart of positives and negatives. He was kind. Thoughtful and quick witted. He knew what he was doing more than I did and it eased the work along, our task list quickly being scratched out as the days wore on. 

But still I hesitated to actually engage with him more than necessary. I remained pointedly quiet during our working hours, averting my eyes whenever he looked up and caught me staring at him. More than once I found him doing the same and it made my stomach flutter in a way I didn’t appreciate. 

Without admitting it aloud, I was still hurt by his departure all those years ago. It still felt like a fresh wound to know that he never replied to my letter, the one outreach of hope that I’d sent his way after he couldn’t be bothered to say goodbye. And now that he was here, day in and day out, it hurt all over again to find that his leaving had no impact on him at all. He was still the friendly boy I’d been starting to get acquainted with, always ready with a gentle tease or a quiet compliment. 

Back then I’d leaned heavily into our budding friendship. We’d gone on adventures, had explored our part of the island for hours on end, always finding something new to investigate as the hours of the day wasted away. I’d found a friendship with him that was different than the one I spent with Diana and they were two wonderful beings that helped me discover so much more of the world. 

I’d thought that maybe I was turning over a new chapter in my life when the dance was announced and I discovered I would have a handful of friends to accompany me. It was with an excitement I hadn’t yet known that I readied myself in my best dress and travelled with Diana to the hall. When we arrived I found my dance card quickly filled and I remembered exclaiming to Ruby that it would be my first time dancing with a boy. 

I hadn’t been prepared for that evening. When Gilbert arrived late to the room he had inquired about my card, his expression deflating as I informed him that it was already full. He’d tried to bargain and strike a deal to get in a dance with me but I hadn’t seen the hope I was extinguishing by turning him away. With a solemn nod he’d left the hall and disappeared from my life, our friendship dissolving in one fateful day. 

Now he was back, just like that, and I didn’t know how to process it. I’d changed so much, surely he had as well? I couldn’t tell though - not really. I had no idea why he’d come back or what had become of him while he was gone. Did he find a family? Was there a wife at the Blythe farm? One that hadn’t yet been mentioned to me because I kept such distance? I didn’t know. Maybe I didn’t want to know, afraid of the tucked away hope that I would never mention to anyone. 

“Are you coming out of the loft today or should I bring lunch up to you?” Gilbert breaks into my thoughts and I drop the fork, the wood clattering to the floor and echoing around us as I stare at him with wide eyes.

“Wh-what?” I stutter, my mouth dry as I look at the subject of my rambling thoughts. 

“Got it - one minute,” he mumbles and disappears out of the hole in the floor, leaving me to sit heavily down on one of the bales of hay. Brushing my hands briskly over my face I let my fingers press into my eyes, the tension shifting and evolving within me. 

When he climbs back through the hole he’s got his satchel over his shoulder and a pitcher of water in one hand. I bolt towards him, grabbing the pitcher from his grip so he can safely climb the rest of the way. 

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” I scold, setting the jug down and resting my hands angrily on my hips. He finishes his ascent and stands before me, his height towering over my small frame as he grabs for my hand, placing a wrapped sandwich in it pointedly. 

“You’re welcome, again,” he answers, moving towards where I’ve set the water and dropping down beside it. He pulls wrapped biscuits from his bag along with his own sandwich, his dark eyes watching as I remain standing. “Are you going to join me? Or was all that effort for nothing?” He asks with a smile, fully aware of the confused mood I’m in. 

I join him on the floor and set my sandwich down to grab for one of the cookies instead. “Thank you for bringing it up here, though next time just yell at me to come down. That’s what Matthew used to do.” 

His eyes find mine at the man’s mention, his brow furrowing as he takes a bite of his sandwich. “May I ask what happened to Matthew?” 

The question makes my stomach churn and I look out into the yard, my eyes pricking with unshed tears. His loss was still fresh, even after these last years without him. This must have been how Gilbert had felt when I’d asked him before about his own father, the pain crackling like a whip in us still. “He had a heart attack. He didn’t make it.” 

“I’m sorry, Anne,” Gilbert offers, his tone honest. When I look back over to him he’s stilled his movements, the loss of his own father flickering in his expression. For a moment we’re a pair of aching souls, adrift in our memories. 

“I’m sorry too, about your father. He was a good man,” I add and Gilbert nods, busying his hands by unwrapping his sandwich. We don’t talk for a while after that, a calm steadiness filling the space and circling our tired bodies. 

“Did you ever go on to more schooling? I remembered that’s what you were working towards before I left and I always wondered if you got there,” he inquires as I nibble at another biscuit and he pours us both a glass of water, the cups appearing from his satchel. I watch as he sips at the liquid, confusion blossoming in me at the question. I’d  _ told _ him about Redmond in that first letter - did he forget?

“Yes, I went to Remond. I received my BA and came back here to teach at the Avonlea school for a few years before the farm became too much for Matthew. That’s when I started helping out around home more and just kind of… Fell into keeping it up for the last few years,” I pause, watching as he nods along with what I’ve said. “What about yo - “ 

“I can almost picture you in the front of a classroom,” he interrupts with a faraway smile. “Chalk on your skirts and the students all up out of their seats. I bet you were an excellent teacher.” I smile at that, tucking my face into my food to try to hide the blush. 

“I do miss it every so often but I would miss my home more, I think.” 

“I remember once when we were studying one of those literature analysis essays and you tried to explain to me your argument and I was being such a cad about it. You got so hot under the collar that I had to try so hard not to laugh,” he chuckles at the memory, glancing over at her. “You could have hit me with your slate again and I would have still not understood what you were trying to say.” 

“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter now. I was probably right,” I add with a shrug, a cheeky smile on my face. 

“I have no doubt you were. Do you think you’ll go back?” His question makes the hair rise on the back of my neck, the familiar anxiety of choosing a different life from the one I’d planned out coming back to settle in my chest. 

“No. I have to keep the farm going. I can’t teach and do that at the same time,” I answer shortly to his responding snort. 

“So you’ll give up everything you’ve worked so hard for to to get a few more years out of this place? That doesn’t sound like the Anne I used to know.” 

“Of course it doesn’t. You left that Anne behind and she grew up while you were off living your life,” I snap and stuff the remainder of the sandwich into my mouth, scrambling to my feet and stalking away from him with as much speed as I can manage. 

* * *

“Anne, are you going into town today to pick up your order? I’ve got some letters to go to the post office,” Marilla calls from the front of the house, her boots clacking across the floor as she enters the room. I lean back from the table and take the letters from her, setting them on the table next to my breakfast plate. 

“I can - are you sure you don’t want to go in yourself? I’m sure Gilbert would be happy to take you,” I offer lowly. Marilla turns on her heel to look at me, a brow raised in question. 

“Are you still on about that? I thought he’d been working out alright?” She laments, leaning against the sink as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. How could I explain to her that everything  _ had _ been going fine, at least until he told me I was wasting my potential in no uncertain terms. “Anne, if things aren’t going well you don’t need to keep him around. Pick up the seed today with him and then tell him so - I’m sure he’ll understand. We can manage the rest of the season ourselves.” 

I swallow back a scoff, knowing full and well that Marilla was in no condition to help me with planting this season. Just last night I’d heard her go to the kitchen after a particularly hard round of coughing to boil some water for the steam, her desperation unable to last her through the night. 

“No. It’s fine. I’ll take him into town today and try to see if anyone has popped up looking for work while I’m there.” Getting to my feet with a jolt, I brush past the woman and head out into the yard, heading towards the barn to start readying the wagon. 

Gilbert arrives not long after and hovers at the edge of my periphery, watching as I muscle my way through moving the cart around. 

“Are you taking a trip?” He questions, eventually coming around to give me a hand. Though I roll my eyes at the action neither of us can deny that it’s easier with two people - or at least one person with the capable strength. I wasn’t helpless but even I could recognize my own limits.

“Yes - we’re going into town today,” I mumble when the cart is situated properly. 

“We? You want me to go with you?” He trips against a floorboard and stumbles, catching himself with a tight laugh. When his eyes meet mine they’re filled with a playful energy, one that echoes back to our days spent wandering the forest and adventuring the island. It hurts to recognize the look and so I twist away, glancing around the barn for a moment. 

“Is that okay? Do you have other plans?” I reply as I try to shove down the burst of nostalgia that springs within me. 

“No, no plans.” 

“Good. Why don’t you saddle up the mare and I’ll go get the basket Marilla was preparing. We’ll likely need it for the ride home - today is lifting day, after all.” 

The ride into town is uneventful and quiet, Gilbert taking the reins and steering us along the dirt road with an ease that I envied. When we reach the edge of town I spare a moment to look over my skirts and try to brush the dirt from them to at least attempt a presentable appearance. 

“You look fine, Anne,” Gilbert says abruptly as I thumb a fleck of dirt from my boot. With a glare I turn to him, my teeth biting into my lip as I hold my tongue. “What? Are you really indignant about a compliment right now?” 

“That wasn’t a compliment,” I hiss, turning back to look at my boots as we round the last corner. 

“Well would you rather I told you you looked stunning? Like strawberries and cream and strength that radiates off of you like heat from a fire? Because I can but I doubt you’d listen.” The words tangle in my chest and my breath skips, the vibrant red burning from my chest to my cheeks. “Lovely even with that blush too. But again, not like you’ll hear it since you won’t even give me the time of day.” 

“I do too, Gil,” I whisper as he steers the buggy into place. Beside me he shifts, his hand settling on the bench between us as I stare at the dirt under his nails. 

“Look at me and say that again,” he requests softly, like his mouth was afraid to utter it. As if commanded, I glance up to meet his gaze, my throat tight as he stares back at me. 

In that moment I try to find the words. I try to figure out how to act, try to remember just how exactly one completes the basic function of breathing. But I can’t. So instead I turn and jump from the cart, running away from the confrontation before disappearing into the dress shop until I can calm the chaotic thoughts in my head.

By the time I make it to the general store Gilbert has already started loading the order, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his movements steady as he stacks items atop one another. Hesitant, I half expect, half hope, for him not to notice me standing on the periphery. But my luck is sour and his voice cuts through my daze.

“They said you could go in and settle once you got here,” he instructs, bending to lift another bag of seed from the ground without missing a beat. The guilt strikes me as I realize he’s done most of the work already and I scurry to the pile, grabbing the other end of the sack. “I’ve got it Anne, go on in and take care of the details.” 

His voice is cold as he dismisses me, his gaze not once flickering over to look at me as he moves from item to item. Inside I cringe as I realize the chasm I’ve opened between us, one that threatened to solidify a permanent wedge if I wasn’t careful. Taking heed of his request I step inside the building and move towards where Beth is manning the register. 

“Anne! The man outside said he was your hired hand for the season, I hope it’s alright I let him start loading everything?” Beth greets, a wide smile crossing her pretty features as a blush tinges her cheeks. 

“Yes, it’s alright, thank you. I was, um, wondering if perhaps you’d heard of any additional labourers needing work still?” I question quietly, my hands busy with looking through my bag for my billfold. 

“Why, just yesterday someone was in looking for work! But haven’t you enough hands already? Your current farmhand is quite efficient,” she pauses and then looks plainly out the store windows before looking back towards me. “Plus he was friendly too - and isn’t that always helpful?” 

“Quite. I’m wondering if perhaps you could send the other man over, maybe Friday afternoon?” I look at her and wait for her nod, her smile shifting just enough to make me squirm. 

“Sure thing Anne. Are we settling up today?” 

I finish up the accounting and then join Gilbert once more at the cart, marvelling at the way he’s already stacked and secured the order. With a posture betraying his mood, he leans against the wheel and watches me as I approach him. 

“Ready to head back?” He asks smoothly, righting himself as I nod. His hand is there to help me up the step and though I don’t need it, I take it anyways in an attempt to smooth over the frazzled nerves I’m trying to tame. 

The ride back to Green Gables is tense, neither of us willing to break the silence that sprawls between us. It’s only after we reach the halfway mark that Gilbert slows the mare, settling down the reins between us before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. I sit stoically and wait, unsure what he expects from me until he abruptly sits back up and turns to me. 

“I don’t want it to be like this anymore,” he states. I shift under his intensity but hold my ground, my spine straightening as though being challenged. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what - Anne, don’t be obstinate, please. Not now.” Gilbert rubs at his face, a heavy sigh escaping him. “We used to be friends - can we not go back to that?” 

“We were children then,” I whisper, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as he touches on the very confused fear that moves through me. 

“You once told me we were kindred spirits. Does that just disappear with age?” His question burns me like a flame and I look away, confronted with his memory and uncertain of myself, of him. “I don’t think it does. Sure, time changes us, but not enough that we can’t find our way back. If we’re both going to be here couldn’t we actually make a go of it?” 

“I don’t understand what you want from me, Gilbert.” 

“Your friendship. A chance to rebuild what we once had. I didn’t come back - “ 

“What  _ did _ you come back for then?” I snap, my nerves fraying as I look back towards him. My temper flares then, my breathing quickening as our gazes meet. 

“Anne,” he sighs, his mouth opening and closing abruptly as though editing his words before he would speak them. 

“Well?” I interrupt, finding myself further on edge than I expected. 

“It’s my home. I wanted to come back home,” he finally answers, staring down at his hands in his lap. I close my eyes and exhale, shifting on the buggy’s bench as the argument stills. 

“I’m not your home. I was never that important to you.” He pales at that, his eyes widening at my quiet words. Before I realize it’s happening tears burst from my eyes, slipping down my cheeks as all the hurt from his leaving comes roaring back to the surface. Embarrassed, I stumble from the cart and take off towards the trees and the solace they promise. 

Gilbert isn’t far behind me when I finally crumble to the ground, my chest heaving as sobs wrack through my body. Though his reappearance was the trigger, I knew myself well enough to know that this reaction wasn’t solely about him returning. It was bigger than that - the threat of being destitute, of losing the only home I’d ever known. Of Marilla being really, truly sick. All the pressures had compounded and made me sensitive to everything and it was bound to break through at some point. 

It just happened to be in an old friend’s presence that I finally let it out. 

“Anne, please talk to me,” Gilbert asks as he eases down beside me, his gaze watchful. 

“It’s not just you, Gil. It’s everything. Marilla isn’t well and we’re hurting financially. She wants to sell, to live with Rachel so that I can get on with my life but that isn’t what I want. I was never going to be the girl who married and kept a family and I don’t understand why that’s the only path for me. Why can’t I do this? Why must I choose?” I rub at my eyes, hiding my face in my hands as he shifts closer. I don’t expect his touch, his fingers brushing the hair from my temple. 

“You still have an entire life ahead of you. Nothing you choose now has to be the only path you walk,” he offers gently. I lift my eyes to meet his and groan, shaking my head. 

“Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve been nothing but cold to you since you came back.” He shifts and looks out towards the road, a hand brushing through his mess of curls. 

“Because I care about you Anne, I always have.” 

“Then why didn’t you say goodbye?” 

“I tried. Don’t you remember the dance? Right before I left? I remember trying to get a moment with you so I could tell you but you were so caught up with everything else. I realized that I didn’t want to ruin your night and so I just left. It was foolish of me but I was young and worried and didn’t know how to tell you what I was feeling.” His words open new wounds and I cringe inwardly, recognizing that my years of hurt were self-inflicted. I’d brushed him off. I’d not given him the chance to say goodbye.

“I didn’t - I’m sorry, I didn’t know, Gil. But still you could have returned my letter, couldn’t you?” My voice shakes with the question, my heart in my throat. 

“There was no letter. I never received a letter.” His pitch wobbles and he squeezes the bridge of his nose before he looks at me head on, my nerves sparking. 

“There was. I sent it the Christmas after you left. It - did you not get it?” 

“Anne - we moved a lot that first little while. I never got your letter, else I would have written you back. I promise I would have,” he whispers urgently, leaning towards me until his knee is pressed to my thigh. 

“So all this time - the rift between us…?” I venture, watching as he visibly swallows and nods, a sad smile on his face. 

“A misunderstanding, it seems,” he finishes. The truth of it settles in me and I close my eyes, groaning with the realization. 

“I’m so sorry Gil, for being so cold. I should have just talked to you instead of harbouring all of this. It was childish of me.” 

“It’s alright. You’ve got a lot on your plate so I understand it was about more than just us. I do hope though that we can start over? Maybe go back to the buggy and grab that picnic basket for a snack?” 

Together we walk back to the buggy and slowly steer the mare off the road, Gilbert collecting the basket and leading the way towards an old oak tree along the side of the road. We settle in to eat and I try to sort through my feelings, the ache of hurt lessened after our conversation. 

Had I known then what I did now, perhaps I wouldn’t have struggled so hard with Gilbert returning to Avonlea. Maybe we would have stayed in contact better. Wrote letters over the years. Our friendship could have continued and I would have known that I wasn’t abandoned once more. 

But the past was what it was and all I could do now was move forward. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are killing me with your comments / kudos - thank you so much! I'm so pleased you're enjoying this little thing I've been working on <3

The next few days pass with an ease that bewilders me. I hadn’t thought running a farm could be as easy as it was if you had the proper help, if maybe I didn’t have to muscle my way through everything on my own. With Gilbert working steadily alongside me we turn over the fields quicker than Marilla and I had in years prior, our inventive methods increasing our efficiency while our conversation kept the mood bright. 

I’d forgotten, in the years between, how combative Gilbert and I could be in the midst of an argument. Though we never soured against each other, he was a notable opponent in debates and we easily kept each other on our toes. The hours we spent alongside one another flew by and when Friday rolled around I was eager for him to arrive, ready to open a discussion on politics that was guaranteed to rile him up. 

The morning went quickly and soon I was sending Gilbert inside to collect our dinner while I finished mucking out one of the stalls. So entranced in preparing for our afternoon I missed the man who strode into the barn, my attention turned inward until he was nearly standing behind me. 

“Miss Shirley?” He growls, his voice raspy and harsh. Startled, I nearly leap out of my skin to turn and look at him, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Yes? May I help you?” I ask sharply, holding the fork tightly in my hands. 

“The girl at the general store said you were looking for a farmhand. Sent me on up to help.” 

“Oh! Beth! I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll be needing anymore help this season. I made a mistake when I spoke to her earlier this week - “ 

“Well I came all the way up here, least you could do was give me something for my time,” he hisses, coughing into his elbow before stepping closer to me. I shift away as he takes another step, the hair on the back of my neck beginning to stand up. 

“Sir, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to some chores in the house - “ 

“Look girl,” he snaps and grabs my wrist as I try to sidestep around him. With a jerk I try to loosen his grip but find myself stuck, his fingers squeezing tight enough to leave marks. “I heard you were a wiry one and that you liked to do things all independent like. Why don’t you make the smart choice and give me what I want - “ 

“How about you leave before we throw you out?” Gilbert interjects, my heart thumping in my chest as I look over my shoulder at him. Relief floods me as he steps into the stall, joining us in the small space and towering over us both. 

“There’s no need - “ 

“Leave - now!” Gilbert commands and the man drops my hand, sliding past us and heading back out into the yard. I watch him go with shock still coursing through me, the fear the man had caused slow to ease. “Are you alright Anne?” 

I shift my eyes up to Gilbert’s and nod absently, my fingers coming to rub over where his grip had nearly left bruises. “I think so. I should have asked for references before I had Beth send him up here. I’ll never do that again.” 

“What was he doing here? Who was he?” 

“I don’t know. I mean - I asked if there was anyone looking for a job when we were in town earlier this week. When I was worried you wouldn’t work out here - before - before the forest. Beth said she knew of someone but I didn’t - I guess I made a mistake,” I whisper, shame and embarrassment coming hotly to my cheeks. 

“You couldn’t have known he would be like that. I’m sure Beth didn’t know either,” Gilbert offers. Nodding, I let him lead me out to the yard where we settle against the fence, the early summer days pouring sunlight over us as Gilbert sets down the basket of food and picks absently at the grass.

“Thank you for sticking around. I know it’s for the paycheck, but still. I don’t think I’ve said that yet,” I add before starting to take items out of the basket. Gilbert’s hand brushes against mine then, his fingers grazing over my knuckles. For a second I think he’s just reaching for the bright red apple in the bottom of the pile but then his movements stop, his fingers curling around my pinky and causing me to look up at him with my mouth agape. 

His smile is gentle, his dark eyes brighter in the afternoon light, and I feel the touch ripple up my arm and vibrate in my chest. A moment later he lets me go and plucks the apple from the basket, a wide grin on his face as he looks out towards the fields. I sit in stunned silence, chewing on small bits of food that I grab at absently until there’s nothing left and we have no choice but to get back to work. 

“I’ve got your wages in the house, if you’ll give me a few minutes to grab it before you leave?” I ask as I climb down from the loft later that afternoon, turning to face him as he rubs grease off his hands. The end of the day had come quickly and I was ready to call it quits, my body sore from the full week of heavy work. 

“That’s okay. I’ll get them Monday,” he replies, gathering up his things and slinging his satchel over his shoulder. 

“Are you sure? It’s no problem for me to run and get them.” 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll be okay until Monday.” I perk up my ears at this, my body stilling. He’d used  _ we _ before when speaking about home but I hadn’t much focused on it, my attention always drawn elsewhere. But now - after the week where he’d worked so hard to get into my good graces, where he’d stolen soft touches that I couldn’t otherwise explain, the  _ we _ seemed to glow more prominently than before. 

Swallowing my questions, I nod and bid him goodbye as he exits the barn and climbs over the fence to head through the fields towards his home. 

As evening works its way through the house I try to shove down the feelings that ebb and flow within me. I draw myself a bath, sinking into the steaming water and letting the heat wrap around me to lessen the chill that seems to have settled into my gut. 

If Gilbert did have a family back at his farm I needed to know, sooner rather than later. I couldn’t continue to spend time alone with him if he was married - there was no excuse for that behaviour and not even a work agreement could keep the wolves at bay if word spread further than the small village. It wasn’t just my own reputation at risk - that I could handle - but I couldn’t impose that rumour on his wife no matter how hard things became at the farm. 

His  _ wife _ . My stomach flips at the thought and I groan, sinking down into the water until my head is fully submerged. The world seems clearer down here and if it weren’t for my need for air I’d go dive into the Lake of Shining Waters and never re-appear. Why did I feel this way? Why did my heart and mind betray me after so many years of being on my side? 

I refused to believe that it was because I felt something for Gilbert Blythe. I barely knew him now and though we’d once been friends, there wasn’t enough in our history to give me more to go on. It was ridiculous to feel this way. And yet still I did. 

With a gasp for air and a sour mood, I discard the bath water and head up to bed, bidding my goodnights to Marilla who sits quietly next to the fire as I hastily climb the stairs and tuck myself under my blankets. 

* * *

On Sunday I resolve to investigate the Blythe family situation. Saturday had been spent plagued with thoughts that I was committing a vicious sin by even so much as thinking about the gentle way Gilbert had brushed his hand against mine on Friday. No, I couldn’t put it off anymore. I had to know.

Arriving to the church yard I leave Marilla to greet our neighbours as I drag Diana to the side, a conspiratorial note in my voice as I ask her what she knows about Gilbert’s return. 

“I haven’t heard much, Anne, but surely we would have heard if he had a whole family he brought into town? Wouldn’t his children be attending the school?” 

“That’s - I mean, that’s what I thought. That I’d know by now but - “ 

“What are you ladies talking about?” The man in question asks over my shoulder and I spin to look at him, surprise colouring my features. I glance around him and find no one hovering nearby, no strange woman or new children in the collection of people. 

“Gilbert, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you!” Diana greets, her hands fluttering to clasp together against her chest. “Father told me you’d returned but not the circumstances as to why. Are you well? How is your family?” 

“Well those are all big questions…” He pauses, glancing towards me with a lifted brow. “I mean, it’s no secret that I’ve decided to take up my uncle’s practice in Glen St Mary come the fall. As for my family, I guess I’m as orphaned as Anne now.” 

His admission makes me cringe, my heart aching for him as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. 

“I’m - oh I’m sorry Gil! I’d been told you had a little family and that was what I meant! I didn’t - “ 

“A - what? Where did you hear  _ that _ ?” He asks as his smile grows wide. The sadness that had hovered around the edges of his expression disappears then and I allow myself to exhale shakily, my gaze dropping to my boots. 

“My, how I’ve been so ill informed!” Diana groans, resting her head on my shoulder to hide the giggle she lets slip. 

“Yes - I would say you have been. It’s just me and a friend I met out west who has come back to take over the farmstead for me so I don’t have to sell it. His name is Sebastian - “ 

“Oh I must have you both over for tea! Why not Tuesday? We could drag Anne here out of the barn for a few hours. Wouldn’t that be lovely, Anne?” Diana asks brightly, looking between us with wide expectant eyes. I shake my head slightly, fear striking through me at the suggestion. I couldn’t sit through tea - not Tuesday, maybe not ever. I couldn’t go back to that version of me. Could I?

“That would actually be great, Diana. I think we could definitely get her out for a few hours - I know we’re already ahead of schedule with the work. What do you say Anne? I’ll have Bash come over and meet us and then we’ll head over?” 

“But I’ve got a list,” I lament, looking between the two who shake their heads. 

“Then it’s settled. Enjoy the service. Anne, may I speak to you for a moment?” Bewildered, half thinking he’d negotiated this all with Diana first, I follow him dumbly to the side of the building. Words are gone from my mind as I try to dig through reasons to avoid Tuesday and still sort through everything I’ve just learned. No family, a stranger from out west, his uncle’s practice? “I wanted to see if maybe you would allow Bash to come and work with us for a few days so he can learn the ropes? You wouldn’t have to pay him - he just wants to learn so he’s ready next year.” 

“What do you mean your uncle’s practice?” I blurt out, my cheeks flaming as I look up at his shocked expression. It’s all I can focus on at this moment. 

“I didn’t tell - Anne, I finished medical school last year. I came back to the Island to help restart the farm before I move out to take over my uncle’s medical practice. Did I not mention this to you already?” I shake my head and wrap my arms across my waist, hurt reigniting in my chest. 

“So you came back just to leave again?” I whisper, voice cracking. His eyes widen and he shakes his head, his hand reaching out to settle on my shoulder. 

“It’s not like that, Anne. I’m not leaving Avonlea forever - I’ll still be on the Island. I  _ have _ come home but I need to take this opportunity or else I might have to look further away for a practice,” he adds softly. Somehow we’d drifted into the shadow of the church, the dull noise of the crowd almost distant as I watch his expression shift and darken. “Why does it matter to you, Anne? What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

I look away at that, unwilling to let him see the pain that sparks at his intentions. “I was just - I was worried about the harvest,” I lie, the words sounding like a foreign language as they leave my lips. Any fool could see through them.

“The harvest? That’s all?” He breathes, his hand slowly dropping from my shoulder as he stands up straight. 

“Yes. I mean, of course you have a life to manage. I just - nevermind. Yes - of course Bash can come help. I look forward to meeting him. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I add and step around him with my chin tucked against my chest. I barely make it a step before his hand is catching my wrist, my gaze snapping up to his. 

“Anne.” My teeth bite my lip and I force myself to shake my head, an exhale forcing the tears to stay at bay. His expression softens and I feel his thumb rub small circles over my palm. “I - I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The morning’s events give me endless things to ruminate over as I sit uneasily in the church pew. When it finally comes time to head for home I let Marilla steer the buggy over the hills as I watch the scenery pass us by. 

“What’s come over you this afternoon? You’re behaving like a living ghost,” Marilla asks as I sit on the porch swing and watch the sun sink lower in the sky. She hovers in the kitchen doorway, a tea towel in hand. 

“I’m not quite sure,” I answer softly, glancing up towards the woman. Her eyes lock on mine and she comes to sit beside me, the towel draped between her knees. 

“My dear girl, I feel we both know what has changed as of late. You were like this when he first left, don’t you remember?” 

Frowning, I look up towards her and shake my head, denying the truth that looked us both plainly in the eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Come now, there’s no shame in admitting you care for him Anne,” she states and kicks the swing backwards to set us in motion. I let the silence slip over us and rest my head on the woman’s shoulder, content to let the sour thoughts continue with her at my side. 

Gilbert was a doctor. He’d gone away and become something while I’d stayed here in this small village, hanging on to the past instead of finding my own way in the world. Worse, he’d only come back to turn his past into something new before he left again. Leaving me behind once more. 

It didn’t hurt so much now, not after the initial sting had eased. All I felt now was that same remnant of abandonment, like maybe I would spend the rest of my life with people always moving on without me. Matthew had, Diana had, Marilla would soon. But I would still be here, fighting for a home that would feel empty without the woman at my side. 

Tears escape from my eyes then and drip onto Marilla’s shoulder, soaking through her cotton top and drawing her attention to my tense frame. She doesn’t speak at the recognition, simply lifting her arm to come wrap around my shoulders in a tight embrace. 


	7. Chapter 7

The morning comes and I wake with an intention to put the past day’s feelings behind me. I don my work pants and a grey worn blouse before heading down to the kitchen where my breakfast waits for me. 

Out in the barn I start my chores and get lost in my work until the sun is high over the horizon, the heat of the day starting to crowd into the space as I climb up into the loft. 

“Anne!” Gilbert calls out to me and I duck my head through the opening, surprise filling me as I see a man with dark skin stare back up at me. “There you are! Should have known you’d be up in the rafters again.” 

“One second,” I reply and climb down the ladder, trying not to stare as I come to stand before the pair.

“Anne, this is Bash. Bash - Anne,” Gilbert introduces us, watching with a cocky smile as I take the man’s hand quickly. 

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Bash,” I greet brightly, a wide smile coming over my face as I look the man over. Kindness radiates off of him as he replies in turn, his accent thick. “Where are you from? Surely that’s not an accent developed in the west?” 

“Ohoho no, it’s from my own island - Trinidad,” he replies and then stills, glancing over me. “And you - I’ve never seen a woman in pants yet in all my travels. Blythe, why have you been keeping me from this magical woman?” 

“Don’t start!” Gilbert responds, looking between us. 

“I should have known - I would be lying if I said I didn’t know she was a special one from what you mutter about in your sleep,” Bash chides and I feel the blush rise in my cheeks, Gilbert’s eyes widening. 

“Bash,” he hisses, his own cheeks reddening at the man’s laughter. 

“Alright alright - I kid! Anne, it’s lovely to finally meet you. I hear you’ve got your hands full with this place - shall we get to work?” 

Together we walk through the barn, showing Bash where the tools are and where our growing list is being added to and scribbled on more with every day. As the day goes on I find the chatter and the atmosphere brightened with the man’s addition, his cheerful mood and teasing manner causing me to laugh more than I have in the past few years combined. 

“Who is that out in the barn?” Marilla asks later as I come inside to collect more water to beat the growing heat. 

“Sebastian - Bash. He’s Gilbert’s friend,” I answer quickly, tucking a few biscuits in my pockets as I go. 

“But - he’s - he’s - “ 

“Not from around here, yes, I know. But he’s kind and he’s here to learn how to run a farm so he can take over the Blythe land.” Her brow raises at that, an uncertain look coming over her face. 

“Gilbert isn’t staying to run the farm himself?” 

“No. In fact, while he was away he became a doctor and in the fall he’ll be moving to Glen St Mary to take over his uncle’s practice.” My answer catches her off guard and she covers her mouth, watching as I set the pitcher back on the counter. 

“Anne, is that what had you all out of sorts yesterday?” I try to stifle my glare, shrugging and turning back to the task at hand. “You need to talk to that boy in the barn, else you’ll miss it once more.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I quip and let the porch door snap shut behind me, Marilla’s glare almost burning into my back as I go. 

“What’s that look for?” Gilbert asks when I return to the barn, standing up straight from where he’d been leaning against the door and watching as I walked across the yard. I swallow the smile from my lips, handing him a biscuit and then moving past him back into the shade. 

“Bash! I have sustenance!” I call out and wait as the man reappears from the back of the space. 

“I don’t know much about equipment, but you do know you have a broken plow back there, right?” He questions, reaching for the biscuit and a mug of water. 

“What? What do you mean?” I reply, concern bubbling within me as I look between the two men. Bash nods his head towards the rear of the barn and we both follow, taking in the sight of the damaged equipment. Without thinking I drop my biscuit as my hands cover my mouth, the pieces of the once-intact machine scattered across the floor. 

“This was fine just the other day!” I moan, my throat burning with unshed tears. “How did it get like this?” 

“You mean it isn’t supposed to look like this?” Bash asks from beside me, his brow raised. I shake my head and turn away from the scattered metal and wood, forcing myself to breathe through the anxiety that starts to build within me. Gilbert is there then, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and drawing me lightly to his chest. I go willingly, thoughtlessly, and try to lose myself in the soothing motions of his hand against my back. 

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry,” Gilbert whispers, his voice belying the tension I feel radiating off of him. 

“We don’t have time! We needed to use it this week or else we’ll be late to sow and the crops might fail!” I cry, stepping back from his embrace and turning back to the mess. Sinking to my knees I start to collect the bits I recognize, crawling across the ground hastily. 

“Anne - it’s okay.  _ Anne _ ,” Gilbert shouts, just loud enough to get me to look at him with a startled glance. “I need you to calm down - “ 

“Calm down?  _ Calm down? _ How can I calm down when the one piece of equipment that I need to get the fields sown is broken? Everything else I can do by hand but not this! I can’t dig up an entire farm Gil!” 

“You won’t have to - we’ll put it back together and if we can’t, we’ll find a way to bring over the one from home. There’s no need to get emotional over this - “ 

“Emotional? Are you just saying this because I’m a woman? Would you say this to another man?” I hiss, getting to my feet and storming over to him, my finger pressed into his chest where only a moment earlier he’d sought to give me comfort. 

“I would if he were acting like you are now!” He growls, wrapping his hand around mine and dragging it down between us. “You need to pull it together, Anne. You’re behaving like you did when you first got to Green Gables but I know for a fact that that girl grew up and has overcome a lot worse than a broken plow!” 

“You’re right, I did! I’ve lost friends like you and the only father I’ve ever known. Soon I’ll lose the farm too and then it won’t matter what I’ve overcome because then I’ll have  _ nothing _ .” 

“You didn’t lose me Anne, I’m right here,” Gilbert states carefully, his gaze focused on mine as I still. 

Embarrassment fills me and I groan, stepping around the two men and frantically climbing up the ladder. “Go home. Please! I need time to think without you two judging me,” I call out as I hurry through the wood cutout and spread out along the floor of the loft. 

“Miss Anne - I won’t be judging you for this,” Bash calls from below, his voice honest and clear. “I will see you tomorrow though, bright and early!” 

“Thank you Bash,” I reply weakly, rubbing my hands in my eyes and glaring up at the roof. So caught up in my thoughts I don’t hear the footsteps on the ladder or the huffing of breath as Gilbert joins me in the loft. It’s not until he’s settling down beside me, a frustrating smile on his face, that I realize he’s not going anywhere. “I had hoped you’d leave,” I mumble, interlinking my hands over my belly. 

“Isn’t that what caused this rift in the first place?” He asks lowly and I sigh, turning my head to take in his profile. He rests with his arms overhead, his hands pillowing his skull and his heady scent filling the space around us. It’s distracting. It’s… comforting, somehow. 

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just - it’s been hard lately. There’s so much at stake to make it through this year,” I admit, watching as he shifts to look at me with those dark eyes. 

“You aren’t facing it alone though. I know it’s more than just the farm - I was here the other morning, remember? I understand better than you might think,” he adds, his gaze searching. I close my eyes when it begins to feel like too much, sinking down onto my back again and flinging my hands over my face. 

We lay there for almost an hour until the heat of the day becomes stifling and I find the sweat beading on my brow and slipping down into my hair. “I feel a bit better now,” I murmur, turning my head against the wood to glance over at him. He opens his eyes as if he’d been sleeping, his dazed look finding mine in the low afternoon light. 

“Do you?” He asks quietly, rolling to his side and staring down at me. 

“Yes. I find it easier to come up here when things get to be a little much. It’s always quiet up here and Marilla never thinks to look for me here. The fields yes, under trees, definitely, but not the loft for some reason.” I chuckle, lifting myself up to sitting and brushing the loose hair back from my face. Gilbert watches as I stretch and I feel the heat of his stare burn my skin, the flush rising from my chest. With a cough and a shake of his head he snaps out of his daze and sits up as well, a wide smile filling his features. “You think Bash thinks I’m crazy?” I ask eventually, fingers busy twisting pieces of straw. 

“No more crazy than he already thinks I am,” he replies thoughtfully. I nod at that, my attention focused on the weaving plait I’ve started to form. “Has it been like this for a long time, Anne?” 

I shake my head and try to rid myself of the uncertainty that hints around the edges. “Not really. It was fine through school and when I was teaching. But then Matthew died and Diana got married and I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. So, not knowing a way forward I stayed here to help Marilla run the farm. Somewhere along the way I lost myself, I think. I lost that excitement for life that I’d had as a girl.” 

“Can I tell you what I think?” He pauses and waits for me to nod, his own fingers now playing with the straw that surrounds us. “I don’t think you’re lost. I honestly think you’re just overwhelmed right now. You’ve taken on so much and while it’s admirable, I think maybe you need to figure out what you want to do if this doesn’t work out. There’s options - like, maybe you could sell the fields but keep the homestead. Or you could sell it all and move on - go back to teaching or go back to school - “ 

“This was the first home I ever had, Gil,” I breathe, glancing up at him through my lashes, waiting for him to chastise me. But it never comes. 

“I know. Really, I do. But it doesn’t have to be the only one you ever have,” he says instead, his words soft as he offers them. 

“How do I go back to being that version of me? I doubt any of my dresses would still fit,” I lament as his laughter fills the space, the mood lightening slightly with the question. 

“I’m sure you can figure it out. I mean, if others can, so can you.” A silence fills the space then, an unspoken agreement connecting us both as we sit in the quiet loft and fiddle with the strips of hay. When Gilbert speaks later I listen with a calmer ear, letting myself see the possibility in the future he proposes. “Let’s get you through the summer though. Maybe we could look at teaching positions on the Island, see if there are any openings for you?” 

“I can at least look,” I whisper to his widening smile, his hand reaching out to clasp mine. 

“Since we’ve clearly made progress this afternoon, can I ask another thing of you?” I look up from where our hands are linked, my brow lifting as he grins back at me. 

“If you must.” 

“Promise me when things get all confused next time you’ll just talk to me? I’m not so scary - am I?” 

“I’m not scared of you, Gil,” I groan, letting go of his hand to get to my feet and brush the straw from my pants. He follows me, tugging on my shirt to turn my attention back to him. 

“I’m not saying you are but I value what you have to say, Anne. I want you to talk to me. When I’m laying in bed at night all I can think about is how much I wish we could just talk like how we used to for hours on end - “ 

“Gil,” I interject, my cheeks reddening as he speaks of the thoughts he has in bed  _ at night _ . 

“I mean - don’t take that the - Anne, just hear me out. I miss the way we used to be. So feel free to tell me anything and everything. Don’t let it get bottled up until you pop,” he rambles on, his hands lifting and falling as he loses track of his words. I start to laugh when he pauses, catching sight of his own embarrassed look, the bright pink filling his complexion. 

“I’ll try not to. I can’t say I always will, but I’ll try, okay?” 

“Okay. Now do you want to go look at that plow or deal with it tomorrow?” 

* * *

“Anne, your guests have arrived,” Marilla calls up the staircase, a hint of humour in her voice as I call back to her. Internally I scoff - Gilbert and Bash were not guests, they were men leading me to my social slaughter. If it was anywhere other than the Wright residence I would surely have turned them down, certain that there was no need to ever participate in this charade of appearances ever again. 

With one final look in the mirror I swallow back the hesitation and force a smile to my lips, the sight of my thin frame barely filling out an old dress making me pause. I didn’t look unkept - which was a relief - but I definitely looked different than the last time I’d worn this outfit. My face had more angles now, my hair was a bit askew from long forgotten movements, and the corset made my figure more uniform than I was used to as of late. It was an odd combination and I felt uncomfortable as I descended the stairs, my gaze drawn to the floor as I avoided the two men in the parlour. 

“Well don’t you clean up nice,” Marilla whispers as she comes to join me, her hand squeezing mine as I step into the room. She must have known how self-conscious I felt in that moment because her sympathy was in overdrive as she stood beside me. “I thank you both for escorting her across the yard, as unnecessary as that may be,” she chuckles to my resounding groan. 

“Anne, you look - “ Gilbert starts, faltering when Bash steps forward to take my hand. 

“Lovely, if I do say so myself,” Bash interjects. I look between the two men and feel my cheeks burn, my head shaking as I step around them. 

“Come on, dearest Diana is waiting for us,” I instruct before leading them out into the yard. I walk ahead of them both until we meet the gate, Bash running ahead to open it for me. I shake my head at his chivalry, looking over to Gilbert whose eyes lock on mine. “What?” I snap, turning my gaze out towards the road. 

“Nothing. Just Marilla was right - you do clean up nicely.” Rolling my eyes, I stalk ahead of them both, leaving them to trail after me as we head over the fields. 

Diana’s house isn’t far from home and soon we’re standing at the door, a swift knock alerting her to our arrival. “You made it!” She greets brightly, pulling me into her embrace.

“We did. I even brought the requested guests,” I add and turn to the two men behind me. 

“It’s great to see you again, Di,” Gilbert says, pulling Bash’s arm to urge him forward. “May I introduce Sebastian Lacroix, my friend and business partner.” 

Diana’s eyes widen for a moment, her mouth slightly agape as she takes in the dark colour of Bash’s skin. I swallow thickly, hoping she pulls herself together before the moment gets too uncomfortable for us all. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Wright,” Bash insists, smiling through the discomfort as he steps forward with his hand outstretched. Diana takes it slowly, eventually closing her lips and smiling back at the man. 

“Pleasure to meet you as well Mr Lacroix - “ 

“Please, call me Bash, everyone else already does.” 

“Yes - sorry, of course, Bash,” she adds with a laugh and we exhale a sigh of relief, following Diana as she leads us through the entryway and out into the rear-veranda where she’s set places for us all. 

“I’m just going to help Diana in the kitchen, you two settle in,” I instruct, linking my arm with hers and steering us both back into the house. Diana protests until I knock my elbow into her ribs, shooting her a look that makes the words die on her lips. 

“What was that all about? Where did Gilbert find such a man?” She exclaims, turning to face me with wide eyes. 

“He’s a perfectly pleasant person, Di,” I remark, leaning my hip against the counter as she looks out through the porch door. 

“I don’t doubt it - but, even you must admit he’s not - “ 

“I know. But just give him a chance. Try to get to know him,” I urge, Diana’s attention turning back to me finally. 

“I will, I promise. I was just simply surprised is all. Mainly surprised at this dress - Anne, you haven’t looked this perfect since you left your position!” She squeals then, her hands turning me in my spot so she can get a full view of my outfit. “You look  _ wonderful _ , dear.” 

“Thank you, though I feel uneasy in it, if I must admit,” I lament to her returning scoff. 

“You don’t look it. What did Gilbert say?” She asks as she starts to place the tea items on a decorative tray. 

“That’s a ridiculous question, Di, what was he supposed to say? It’s just a dress,” I counter and turn my attention to fiddling with some of the cutlery on her counter. 

“Come now, you’re telling me he didn’t say a thing when you showed up looking like this?” My returning glare makes her snort, her unladylike behaviour catching her off-guard and causing us both to break out into childish giggles. When we eventually catch our breath again she reaches out to grip my shoulder, her eyes serious. “I am merely an outsider looking in but if I may say so, as your friend, his gaze is anything but friendly when it turns towards you.” 

“That sounds ominous,” I quip, hesitant in letting her words have much of an impact. I couldn’t let myself get bogged down in these imaginings - I needed to focus on what was real and feasible right now. 

“Fine, pretend all you want for now,” she chastises before turning back to the plating. When everything is ready to go I follow her back out onto the veranda, a platter of sweets in hand. 

“This all looks quite delicious,” Bash exclaims, leaning forward to look over the spread appreciatively. 

“Yes - everything looks amazing,” Gilbert adds softly, his eyes catching mine as I set down the dish and ease myself into the chair beside him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I think I missed a day! Sorry about that but I was focused on writing two other stories that I just got so caught up in thinking about that I forgot this one!


	8. Chapter 8

With Gilbert’s plow on hand and Green Gables’ broken parts tucked neatly away in the ‘Winter Repair’ pile, we manage to get the fields turned over and the crops planted through the end of the season. It’s hard work - the effort often running from before dawn into the early evening - but the company makes it almost bearable. 

“Anne, are you nearly awake yet?” Marilla shouts up the stairs, rousing me from my place at the window where I’ve spent the past half hour dreamily watching the sunrise move over the horizon. 

“Yes Marilla - coming now,” I call back and get to my feet, my hands hastily pulling my hair back into a braid as I head towards the kitchen. 

“I was starting to think you were sleeping in today, what with the silence this morning,” she greets when I round the corner to look at her. 

“Sadly, no. The cows won’t milk themselves.” 

“That they won’t. But, how about this morning after we finish up you take the morning off? Catch up on some of your rest? Matthew always used to take a few days when the fields were set so I don’t see why you can’t as well - “ 

“Matthew was always much more on top of the this place than I ever have been, Marilla,” I laugh as I settle my wrap over my shoulders to beat the morning chill. The woman lifts a brow at me, a sly smile on her face. 

“From where I’m standing it seems the farm is in quite capable hands this year.” With a sigh I step past her and out the kitchen door, the sound of her boots and swishing skirt following me as I trudge towards the barn. “You don’t need to work yourself to the bone anymore. Isn’t that why you wanted to have extra hands?” 

“Yes,” I answer as I pull open the heavy door. “But I don’t want Gilbert and Bash to have to pick up all the slack because I decided to take a mid-morning na - “ 

“Anne, what’s the meaning of this? Is this some trick you’re playing on me?” Marilla asks as she turns to me, her eyes wide. I look around the space, my stomach dropping as I take in the empty cow stalls. 

“It’s no joke Marilla - they’re gone,” I breathe. The woman stutters and drops her bucket, turning around the small space to look for the cows that were most definitely not in the place where we’d left them the day before. 

Where could they have gone? Turning on my heel I jog out into the yard, spinning to check the fences around the property. Tucked behind the barn I see the fence posts in pieces, a wide enough gap for the cows to escape through if they were lucky enough to find the opening. Which they must have been because they were gone.  _ Gone _ . 

“How did they - “ Marilla’s voice stalls as she comes to stand beside me, her hand coming up to clap over her mouth. 

“That fence wasn’t broken yesterday,” I whisper angrily, stalking towards it and kicking it with my boot. 

“Are you sure? How else could it have happened after dark?” 

“I don’t know. But I need to go find them now before they wander off too far away!” Not bothering to pay much attention to the remnant boards, I walk past Marilla back into the barn and begin putting the reigns on the mare. 

“Anne!” She shouts as she re-enters the space, her wide eyes looking up at mine. “What is happening here that you’re not telling me? This type of thing doesn’t just  _ happen _ !” 

“I don’t know! I have no idea - “ I pause, swallowing my words as I set the step-stool at the horse’s side. “I’ll take care of it, Marilla,” I promise and climb onto the mare’s back, urging it forward and out through the hole in the fence at a steady pace. 

I take off along the fenceline, clinging to the rope I’ve brought along with me as I keep my eyes trained on the open fields. The cows could have wandered anywhere in the night - the piece of land they’d escaped to was only bordered by the forest and the Blythe property in the distance. They were in open territory and if I didn’t round them up soon they could injure themselves or worse, be stolen for good. 

“Where are you?” I breathe aloud, my eyes squinting as I look along the horizon. The mare keeps a steady pace as we move along the fenceline and before long the panic starts to really set in, the worry that I’d lost something too expensive to replace. 

Losing these beasts would surely mean we were one step closer to losing the farm. They were part of our income, part of our diet, and without them we would either have to make do without or buy the expensive butter and milk that they provided. 

With my stomach in knots I kick the horse to a quicker pace, cutting across the field towards the road in the hope that maybe they were blending into the treeline. It’s there I come across Gilbert in sheared up clothing, his cheeks flushed and two sticks wielded in his hands as he urges our cows forward. 

“You found them!” I shout across the space, relief flooding me as I trot to his side. 

“I thought they looked familiar. How did they get out?” His voice sounds annoyed and I swallow thickly, dropping him a piece of the rope to loop around one of the beasts’ neck. 

“I don’t know. We came out this morning to milk them and the fence was broken and they were gone.” My answer seems to surprise him and he stills, his arms coming to rest at his sides. 

“How’d they get out of the barn though? Did we leave the door open?” 

“No - I mean, I closed it…” I pause and close my eyes, the realization settling in. The plow. The cows. Someone was trying to sabotage the farm. 

“Anne, surely this isn’t what we think it is. Maybe it’s just a mistake, a coincidence,” he remarks as he turns to loop the rope around the other cow’s neck. With shaking hands I twist the ropes around the saddle horn and look pointedly off into the distance. 

“It could be but I highly doubt it. I don’t know what you think has happened to Avonlea since you’ve been gone but it hasn’t turned into a hotbed of criminal activity,” I lament before clicking my tongue and starting the slow procession home. When Gilbert trots alongside us I nearly still the horse, my eyes wide as he smiles back at me. 

“What? I was out for my morning run when these two bumped into  _ me _ .” With a shake of my head I glance away, confused by the idea that he would go running in the morning before coming to do a hard day’s work. 

Back at the farm Marilla is waiting for us, her hands on her hips as she stands to the right of the gate. 

“Perhaps you should head on home Gil. Get cleaned up?” I ask as I slow the horse in our approach. Beside me I see Gilbert stop, his eyes growing wide as he looks over himself. 

“Yes - that might be best.” 

“Where’s he off to now?” Marilla asks as Gilbert ducks away and heads towards home, his curls bouncing with every certain step he makes. 

“Home. He found them when he was out for a  _ run _ this morning,” I remark aloud to Marilla’s sharp laugh. 

“A  _ what _ ?” 

“A run. Like instead of running to something or away from something, he just runs, I guess for the fun of it,” I add as I slide off the back of the mare and lead the trio back into the safety of the barn. 

“Well, I’ve never heard of such a thing. Must have countless hours of extra energy if he can manage to do that before coming over here each day.” 

“You’re telling me. Now I definitely can’t take a nap while they’re working.” My words falter as she sighs beside me, her hand coming to rest on my forearm. 

“You can and you will. Maybe not today, or tomorrow either, but you will have a day of rest before the summer is out or I’ll ground you from the barn. Endurance is not a competition you need to measure up to,” she finishes and though her words carry a threat I can see the kindness that burrows into each of them and I give her a brief nod. 

“I will. Just not today. We’re already behind with this little delay and now I need to add fixing that hole to my list!” 

* * *

By the time the dog days of summer roll around Gilbert, Bash and I have fallen into an easy rhythm, our duties clear and regular activities passing the days with ease. Somewhere along the way my tasks had lightened and I no longer felt the sting of sore muscles at the end of the day or the ache of pain that seemed to hover on the edge of my being. I felt at ease among the two men, their presence no longer an impediment but an improvement to my day. 

It was during these weeks that the responses to my teaching inquiries started to return by post, the letters often short and disappointing. I hid each and every one of them from everyone, tucking them in my pockets until I could safely dispose of them down the privy. 

But then it came - the letter that was not a dismissal but an emphatic  _ yes _ . 

“Why are you so bright eyed Miss Anne?” Bash asks, leaning against one of the barn posts as Gilbert finishes turning out the mare. I shift and tuck the letter in my pocket, glancing between the two before shrugging. 

“Nothing to worry your pretty head about,” I answer and head towards the loft to read the letter in peace. I’m half settled looking out over the fields when I hear boots on the ladder, two wide smiles climbing up to join me. 

“It looks like something good, we couldn’t just wait for you to share it with us,” Bash teases, easing down beside me with a groan. Across from us Gilbert leans against the wall, his gaze trained on me and a peculiar look in his eye. 

“It’s a letter from a school that was hiring. They’re interested in having me submit my application for an upper year teaching position that is opening due to an unexpected illness.” My words are greeted with a buoyant leap and a shout from Bash, his excitement pulling me from the ground until we’re swinging around the small space. 

“Miss Anne is going back to teaching! Blythe, do you hear this wonderful news?” He crows loudly. I spare a look towards the man in question and my stomach flips, his wide smile almost blinding as he looks up at us dancing around the loft. Slowly, determinedly, he gets to his feet and moves towards us until he’s crowding into my space and staring down at me. 

“Tell me you’re submitting your application tomorrow,” he requests lowly, eagerness radiating off of him. With a quick nod I let out an ecstatic bark of laughter, my hand coming up quickly to cover my mouth as the joy vibrates through me. It’s only a second later that I find myself no longer dancing with Bash and instead caught up in Gilbert’s strong arms, his body swinging me around the space in an improper burst of excitement. 

But I couldn’t care any less what was right and proper just then because in this moment I had  _ hope _ and there was nothing that could extinguish it. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into my ear when he eventually sets me back on my feet, his body slow to draw away from mine. I try not to take too much comfort in his embrace and force myself to stand up straight once more, looking between the two men with a wide smile. 

“It’s actually not far from here - just past Carmody really. I would be able to come home on weekends and it’s likely I could still run the harvest until I have to leave,” I explain as we settle back onto the floor. Bash takes the lead then, asking as many questions as he can manage to come up with, all the while Gilbert sits quietly at my side. 

It’s only later, as we head our separate ways for the night that Gilbert hangs back, his hand on my elbow as Bash walks on ahead. “It’s really wonderful news Anne. Truly. Don’t worry about this place - we’ll take care of it and step in to help however we can, alright?” 

“I’ll be able to do both, at least for a little while. Maybe with the extra income Marilla could hire a full-time farm hand to help. Are you sure you want to go all the way to the Glen?” I ask and almost choke on the realization - Gilbert would be in Glen St Mary. I’d be near Carmody. Accepting this position would keep us apart once more. 

Like the ocean in a storm, my emotions run wild with the idea and I find myself clamming up unexpectedly. We held no claim to each other but still, the rekindling of our friendship these last few months had been like finding a missing piece of myself. The distance would mean that relationship would falter, perhaps disappear, and the thought made me sour. 

“Yes - it’s still the closest place for me. It’s alright though, I’ll come home often enough to help Bash with the farm,” he answers carefully. When I meet his gaze again his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I know he understands my thoughts, his own reality crowding back in. “Will you write to me Anne?” It slips out of him like a surprise and I flounder, my eyes wide as I look up at him. 

“Yes,” is all I can manage, my mouth opening and closing as his expression turns sweet. 

“Good. We’ll see you tomorrow then.” And with that he’s turning away, hopping the fence and jogging to catch up to Bash as he crests the hill. 

Inside the house Rachel catches me as I come through the door, a lifted brow and a smirk on her face. “What was that all about?” 

“Just talking about tomorrow’s work is all,” I lie, drifting past her and into the parlour to flop on the couch, the letter burning a hole in my pocket. 

“Oh really? I haven’t seen that look on your face in  _ years _ ,” she adds as she follows me into the room, her hands on her hips. “Come now, share your stories with two old birds.” 

“Rachel, please,” Marilla calls from the kitchen, her voice exasperated. Glancing up at her I give her a cheeky smile that sets her eyes in a squint, suspicions rising as she returns to the kitchen. 

“Well if you won’t press her someone will have to! They’re growing quite close from my observations. You should be worried about - “ 

“They’re adults and know the rules well enough. Besides, it’s none of our business - “ 

“None of our business?” Rachel interjects, her voice rising an octave. “If she winds up in trouble it’ll surely be our business!” 

“Excuse you!” I gasp from the other room, jolting to my feet and scurrying to the kitchen. “There is nothing happening between Gilbert and I, I’ll have you know!” 

“Tell that to the look on the boy’s face, Anne. Don’t play yourself a fool, we all know you’re not,” she snaps back, turning on me with a tight smile. 

“Enough!” Marilla barks then, interrupting us both as we face off in the kitchen. It’s just then that a round of coughing overtakes her, the spatula falling from her grip as she lurches towards the sink. I’m by her side in an instant, Rachel on her other side and our hands rubbing gentle circles across her back as she shudders with the motion of it. 

When finally she stops, her body slumping forward with the exhaustion of it, none of us make mention of the blood in the basin or the fear that courses through all of us. Instead Rachel and I lead her to the parlour and into her chair, a blanket being tucked around her with nervous hands. 

“Don’t act all funny now,” she hisses, waving her hand at us. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rachel grumbles in return, dropping into Mathews old chair as I find myself once more on the couch. 

“At what point can we have the doctor come out?” I ask after a moment of uncomfortable silence, the question bursting from me. 

“We all know what this is, Anne, it would be a waste of everyone’s time if he had to come all the way out here,” Marilla responds slowly. 

“I don’t - I don’t know what it is or why it’s happening or even how to treat it. I can  _ guess _ , but I don’t know for sure! At least let Gilbert do an exam. He’s a doctor, he could help.” 

“He wouldn’t even have to be a doctor to know what this was. It’s that tuberculosis that his father died of,” she adds softly as I look at her with stricken eyes. “You aren’t blind either, Anne. Surely you remember how his father was before they went west?” 

“I do - but he was bedridden. You’re still able to get through the day.” Leaning forward, I watch as she crosses her hands over her waist and closes her eyes. “How do you know for sure, Marilla?” 

“The girl has a point,” Rachel pipes in, a sly wink sent my way. “Let Gilbert have some practice with some old Islanders. It might do him well to experience some  _ challenges  _ before he goes to the Glen…” 

“If it will make you two leave it be, fine, bring the boy over and let him gawk at me tomorrow. But until then, can we please talk of anything else?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, I know thecorkrose wanted me to post yesterday to make up for the missed day but I'll tell you why I didn't - it's Canada Day tomorrow and I'm going to spend the day having a grand ole' time not at home. So I'll post this here for you today but it'll be radio silence tomorrow! Have a good weekend readers!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit late but better than never! I'm working hard to get the last 6 chapters up as I roll out of communicado on Sunday so please hopefully it all goes according to plan! Yikes! Thanks for reading / commenting /kudosing, I love ALL of it!

I stay up late putting together my application and make excuses to head into town first thing to put it into the post. When I’ve handed the package over to the attendant I exhale the breath I’d been holding and drift back out into the street, heading towards my mare and home with a dazed look on my face.   


Back at Green Gables I arrive to find Bash already mucking out the stalls, Gilbert nowhere to be found as I slide off the horse’s back.   


“Anne - before you ask, you can find them all in the house. Marilla said you should go on up when you got back,” Bash instructs, his usual cheerfulness missing from his expression as he looks me over.   


“Thank you.” My feet carry me at a clipped pace towards the house and I stumble through the door to find Marilla and Gilbert speaking in shutterd tones in the kitchen, their whispers beckoning me forward with a confused heart.

“Anne! What took you so long?” Marilla greets as I stare back at her.   


“What is it? Are you alright?” I counter instead, avoiding her question. I couldn’t tell her I’d stopped to admire the summer flowers along the road on my way back, not when I’d forgotten that Gilbert would be checking on her this morning.   


“Why don’t you - “ Gilbert starts and I glare at him, his mouth snapping shut with one look.   


“What did he say? What’s wrong with you?” I press, coming over to rest my palms against the woman’s cheeks.   


“Come now, let’s sit down for a moment.” The woman takes my arm and leads me to sit on the bench across from Gilbert before she settles beside me. Inside my blood thumps heavily in my veins, concern bouncing off every nerve ending as the silence drags on.   


Gilbert is the first to lean forward, his arms resting on the table and his hands clasped together as he clears his throat. “I’ve discussed with Marilla her symptoms and have completed a general exam after getting my things from the house. I believe…” He stills, his expression softening as he takes in the anxious look on my face, the fear that peeks at my edges. With a glance towards Marilla and a hardening of his expression he turns back to me, leaning forward on the table. “If I - If I were to make a wager I would say that she likely has a case of chronic bronchial inflammation…”   


His words fade out and all I can manage to do is stare at his forearms, the thick bands of muscle exposed from his rolled up sleeves catching my attention as I try not to let the tears break through.   


“Anne,” Marilla’s voice brings me back to the present and I look at her, watery eyes and hiccuping breaths. “Oh, my dear child, are you listening to what Gilbert is telling us? This is manageable.”   


“Manageable?” I gulp, tears finally breaking free and letting loose down my cheeks. A sob escapes from my chest and I feel Gilbert at my side, his hand capturing mine in a tight grip.

“Yes, manageable. She needs to take care of herself, when the coughing gets exasperated she needs to rest to recover. You can’t push yourself Marilla - like if you get sick, you’ll want to call the doctor for monitoring, but this is more of an inconvenience than a death sentence right now,” he assures, his dark eyes meeting mine. He looks uncertain for a moment and I shift in my chair, desperate to understand his thoughts.   


“This is good news,” Marilla murmurs and when I look up at her she’s smiling tightly, a small nod making the tears flow even harder as the internal dam bursts and I fling myself against her chest.   


The fear of losing her slowly starts to disappear as I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her tightly in my embrace. It wasn’t tuberculosis. She wasn’t going to die. At least not from this. Relief floods me then and I shake with it, refusing to let her go just yet.   


“Come now, it’s time to pull yourself together,” she scolds eventually, patting my back and leaning back from me so that she can look at me head on. When I look around Gilbert is nowhere to be found and I say a small thanks for that, embarrassed about my reaction to the news. “How about a cup of tea before you head out to the barn to join them?” Nodding, I let her set a tray as I watch her move around the room, a new hope starting to blossom in my chest.   


“Did he give you instructions? For when it gets bad?” I ask when she sets the teapot between us, slowly easing onto the bench across from me.   


“Steam, mostly. And bedrest. Like the headaches I get, I’ll just take the afternoon to rest if I don’t feel up to it,” she replies before quickly pouring my cup. “Everything will be alright. No need to worry yourself now.”   


We fill the next half hour with talk of the menu for the rest of the week, her instructions to have the two men over for dinner on Sunday keeping us occupied until eventually I excuse myself and head back to the barn where I settle into the daily chores under Gilbert’s watchful eyes.   


By the end of the week we’re further ahead of schedule than I could have imagined and as I look over my work planning sheets I smile in relief at the realization.   


“We’re taking Monday off,” I announce to Gilbert and Bash at the end of the day, looking between the two with a wide smile. “I’ll still pay you what I can so it’s not lost wages but I’m making an executive decision to have a true day of rest.”   


“So you don’t need us around until Tuesday?” Bash questions with a lifted brow as he looks towards me.   


“Correct. I’m going to sleep in, perhaps take a walk just for the enjoyment of it, laze out under a tree and read… I recommend you do something also as relaxing,” I add with a laugh, feeling light and free.   


“Sounds good enough to me. Thank you Miss Anne,” Bash replies and with a tip of his hat he heads off towards home.   


“Yes - that sounds like a wonderful day. Would you, um, perhaps want some company on that walk? There’s so much of the Island I haven’t seen since I’ve been back,” Gilbert offers.   


“Are you sure you want to spend your day off with me? Aren’t you tired of me yet?” The hesitation slips from me and he laughs, stepping closer until I can feel his heat against my skin.   


“Not tired. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of that,” he whispers and the truth of it causes me to meet his gaze, eyes wide as his fingers graze my temple and slide a loose slip of hair back from my face. “We can talk more about it after dinner on Sunday. Have a good evening Anne.”   


“You - yes, you too,” I stumble as he steps back, catching myself and the way I’d leaned into his presence. It feels empty without him so close and all of my thoughts are warring and intense in their want to drag him back towards me.  


When I lay in bed that night I can still feel his touch on my skin, the memory of it burning and causing my insides to turn to jelly. It follows me into my dreams and I wake up breathless, my skin flushed and my body alight.   


* * *

 

I wake from a nightmare in the early Sunday morning hours. The feel of it sticks with me throughout breakfast and our church service, my attention torn between reality and the tug of the omen. In my mind I’d been left alone, Green Gables empty and the farm sold off to the highest bidder. Marilla was gone and a man in black hovered at the edges of my periphery as Gilbert’s frame disintegrated like dandelion seeds. It felt too real to brush off and despite my attempts, it kept me distracted enough to feel the dig of Marilla’s elbow one too many times as the preacher droned on.

“Would you stop daydreaming Anne and keep the cart on the road?” Marilla grumbles later, looking at me with a concerned gaze. I snap back to the task at hand and shoot her a weak smile, easing the mare into a quicker gait.   


“Sorry, I didn’t sleep well,” I answer lamely. She shifts on the bench and raises a brow, silent in her question. “It was nothing. Just a bad dream.”

“Well, you’ll need to pull yourself together before our dinner guests arrive.” I could groan at her reminder, the realization that Gilbert and Bash would be there in a few hours adding to my collection of worries.   


The last thing I needed today was for Gilbert to confront me about my mood. He always could see too clearly into me and I knew that when he saw me this evening he would corner me until I spilled whatever was racing through my mind.   


I hated being right.   


“You look… “ He pauses in the doorway after Marilla has shown Bash through to the dining room, his eyes slow to meet mine. For a brief moment I hold my breath, half-expecting him to give me a compliment I don’t deserve. “Tired. Are you feeling well?”   


Forcing my exhale through my teeth I turn and head away from the door, leaving him to hang his own coat before he steps behind me and grabs at my loose hand. I twist and give him a caustic look, my brows furrowed as he stands up straight.   


“I didn’t - that came out harsher than I meant. I just - “   


“I don’t want to discuss how  _ tired _ I look,” I interrupt.   


“ _ Anne, _ ” he breathes, his chest rising and falling quickly before he closes his eyes and re-opens them abruptly to lock on mine. “I don’t want to dig my hole deeper so I’ll just tell you now that I’m glad to see you. May I go to the dining room now?” With a brisk nod and my lip between my teeth I watch him disappear through the doorway, my own heart racing in my chest.   


I stand perplexed at his behaviour - Gilbert didn’t back down from getting to the bottom of things, not when he was a boy and still not now after all these years. But he’d just left me to stew further until Marilla called me into the kitchen to bring plates out to the table.   


Dinner is uneventful, if not overly polite, and I try to allow myself to relax into the company and the light mood. By the time I bring dessert to the table both Gilbert and Bash are readying themselves to depart, the evening coming to a close much sooner than I’d expected.   


Caught off guard by the quick change, I follow them out onto the porch with my arms crossed over my chest and a tight look in my brow. “I thought we were going to talk about tomorrow?” I ask lowly as Gilbert straightens his collar and looks out to where Bash is already lingering in the yard.   


“I’ll come by after breakfast. Perhaps you’ll be in a better mood then to talk to me,” he states and lets his gaze burn into mine.   


“Must I always be in a good mood?” I snap defensively, a touch louder than I wanted.   


“No. But when I haven’t done anything to spur your mood on I’d think I deserved at least a fair chance to try to improve it.”

“You didn’t even try - “   


“You didn’t even give me a chance,” he interjects as his hands come to rest on my shoulders. “I know you have a lot happening in that head of yours. That hasn’t changed in all of these years, from what I can see, but I know you well enough now to know that if you’ve got it in your mind to be sour about something it’s unlikely to change in the blink of an eye. We’ll talk tomorrow about what was bothering you today. We’ll talk about everything we could ever talk about and maybe then…” He pauses as his thumb grazes along my chin and I catch his gaze dropping to my lips, my own sinking to his before the flush rises up my neck. “We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?” Gilbert finishes softly, a rasp in his voice as he steps back and drops his hands.   


“Tomorrow then,” I whisper with a nod, standing frozen to the spot as the two men head off through the fields and into the evening. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! I'm sorry! I got distracted by ST3 and packing and almost forgot! Hopefully the content of this chapter makes up for the delay!

I wake in a better mood the next day, the cloud of misery that had hung over me gone as I watched the daylight flicker through the tree outside my bedroom window. The world seems somehow calmer now that I’ve gotten a full night’s rest and when I sit up, my feet swinging over the edge of my bed, it’s with a lighter feeling that I start readying myself for the day. 

Downstairs I’m surprised to find the kitchen empty, Marilla nowhere to be found as I start to begin preparations for breakfast as quietly as I can. It was unusual for the woman to sleep in but perhaps she was mirroring us by taking the day to rest.

It’s only later, when I enter her bedroom and find her bed already made that concern starts to prickle at the base of my spine. “Marilla?” I call out to the empty house, my voice carrying out into the yard as I check every room. 

“Marilla!” I repeat my call to the yard as I brush my palms against my skirt, the slick sweat obvious as it darkens the fabric. With careful eyes I scan the area - the chicken coop, the fields in sight, the outhouse - none of the locations giving away Marilla’s whereabouts. 

Blood pounds in my ears as I step outside and begin my search in earnest, heading first in a loop around the yard before stalking my way towards the barn where she must be completing morning chores without me. The irritation burns in my throat and I’m halfway to the entrance when I see Gilbert helping Marilla back towards the house, hands empty and Marilla’s hair ruffled as she leans heavily into Gilbert’s side. 

“Oh no!” I swallow, the tears escaping as I sprint towards them and take Marilla’s free arm around my neck. She tries to shake me off and I growl in return, shooting a sharp look towards the man who has kept her propped up. Gilbert keeps his smile in place, the forced grimace doing nothing to calm my nerves as we settle on the couch inside. 

“I hit my head is all,” Marilla mumbles, her hand coming up to rub at the spot where her hair is askew. Gilbert returns from the kitchen with a damp cloth and gets to work, cleaning the blood from the wound and getting a good look at the injury. 

“How did you fall and hit it like this?” I ask evenly, sinking down so I can look her in the eyes.

“I - I’m not sure. One minute I was milking and the next I was laying in the hay. Gilbert here must have heard me - “ 

“You let out a yelp so loud the birds took flight,” Gilbert injects, his eyes flickering to mine for a moment. “Are you sure you fell?” 

“I mean, there was no other way…” 

“Were you coughing? Was it an attack and you maybe lost consciousness?” He continues carefully. I watch the exchange and Marilla’s demeanor shift from confusion to hurt to a mixture of both. 

“I don’t remember that. I’m only sure that something hit my head and then you were there to help me right myself. Maybe one of the horse’s shoes fell from the rafters or some odd thing - Matthew did always like to tuck things away for safekeeping.” 

“Maybe. I guess it doesn’t really matter how - all that matters is that you’re going to be okay. Right Gilbert?” My hands tighten briefly around hers, my eyes catching his in a drawn out silence. 

“That’s right. It looks like just a bump and a small cut. We’ll keep an eye on you for the day and throughout the night but otherwise I think you’ll be okay.” 

“I don’t need to be babysat all day now,” she insists, shaking herself loose from our care. 

It takes a handful of affirmations throughout the morning before we both eventually ease away, her need for independence finally pushing us out the door as Rachel arrives for tea. Outside the house the midday sun rises still and I force myself to relax in its warmth, tipping my face up to the rays and exhaling a shaky breath. 

Marilla’s accident was just another odd occurance to happen over the span of a few weeks and with each one I grew more suspicious of the feeling that something just wasn’t quite right. 

“I guess today wasn’t really a better way to start the day,” Gilbert says over my shoulder, his footsteps telling of his coming to join me. 

“It was just a bit of a shock, is all. I actually woke up in a good mood today if you can believe it.” 

“And that moment has passed, I’m assuming?” I turn to look at him, a defeated look clouding his features as he stares at his boots. “And here I was, hoping to have some adventures - “ 

“It hasn’t,” I interrupt, smiling softly as he glances over at me. “The good mood - it hasn’t passed, I mean. Now that Rachel is here I think we’re okay to go on that walk, if you’d still like to?” Though my throat tightens as I look up at him, my stomach swoops when he grins widely and leans back on his heels. 

“I definitely do,” he answers and lifts his arm towards the forest. “Shall we, Miss Shirley?” 

“Let me just tell them we’re leaving.” 

The afternoon slips by in laughter and wild imaginings, Gilbert’s ideas more flighty than I expect from the young doctor and a boy I long thought grown up. When we finally settle near a long forgotten creek, the trickle of water slipping past us, I let my true joy escape for a brief moment as I slip my toes into its depths and sigh at the relief that floods me. I hadn’t felt this free in years, not since Matthew died and the weight of the world began to rest on my shoulders. 

“May I share the stream, Miss Shirley?” Gilbert asks as he hovers over my shoulder, his attention only now focusing in on where I sit. 

“You may, Doctor Blythe, but you must ensure you sit downstream from me. I wish to enjoy the water at its coolest temperature.” With a chuckle he drops down beside me, his hands making quick work of removing his boots and letting his feet drop into the water with a splash. 

“Gods, this feels good,” he moans. I spare a glance towards him, catching sight of his reddened cheeks before he flops onto this back with a huff. 

“Have I tired you out, Doctor?” I ask, tongue in cheek. His eyes dart to mine before his hand grabs at my own and causes me to thump down beside him. 

“Never. I just thought you would find this view quite nice,” he responds softly and though his eyes never leave my face I don’t hesitate to look up at the sun breaking through the branches overhead, the gentle breeze rippling through the leaves. 

“It reminds me of what put me in such a good mood this morning,” I whisper, the realization making me sigh and relax into the grass. 

“Tell me about your inspirations, Miss Shirley.” 

“Well, they are few and far between nowadays what with all the work I have, but if I had a choice it would be moments just like this. Quiet. Observing the world as it is - the beauty in it and all of the possibilities that exist. The stories I could weave if I had the time to put pen to paper. All the lovely things that I could share like the way the sun changes the colours of the sky, or how the light reflects just so off of the Lake of Shining Waters…” I pause and spare a glance towards him, our eyes locking as I catch him staring at me with an intensity that makes a blush rise on my cheeks. 

“I missed how you used to observe the world,” he murmurs eventually, just barely loud enough for me to hear. 

“Gil - “ 

“I missed you, Anne. Even if you didn’t miss me.” His voice cracks and I feel it ripple through my chest, my body twisting towards him of its own volition. 

“I missed you almost every day,” I whisper. “I was so hurt when you left - I thought maybe I’d imagined our friendship, that you hadn’t felt what I’d felt because I was just young and foolish enough to think it.” 

“If I could go back I would fix it. I would have asked you to write to me. I would have written to you, a thousand letters or more. I would have been there for you when Matthew died. Maybe I could have helped you with the farm so you wouldn’t - “ Instinct pushes me to lift my hand to his lips, my chest aching with all of the ‘would have’ possibilities. His fingers wrap around my wrist and draw my hand away, his lips grazing the tips of my knuckles and causing a shiver to run through me. “I would have come back for you. I did come back - “ 

“Don’t say it,” I burst, drawing back from him and closing my eyes. I couldn’t handle this truth. It would mean more choices, more broken promises. More ‘would haves’ and ‘could have beens’. 

“Anne, please. Please look at me,” he begs. I can feel the heat of him crowding in, his palm cupping my chin as I slowly open my eyes. 

He’s so close. So very close. His breath sighs across my chin and I feel his fingers slide to the back of my neck, my body giving in as his lips find mine in a ghost of a touch. It’s so light, such a brief graze that I almost believe it didn’t happen. When I open my eyes I feel his own gaze hit me like a brick before he presses closer once more. 

The kiss is bolder this time, more present, and I let slip a small moan that causes his fingers to flex against the nape of my neck. One second we’re barely touching, the next he’s leaning over me, my tongue finding the seam of his lips and begging entry as I twist my hands in his shirt and pull him closer. 

Time passes in a world far detached from where we lay, our awareness of everything but each other disappearing as our focus turns singular. It’s only when I feel him shiver and withdraw that I come back to myself, my lips swollen and my heart racing in my chest. Above me Gilbert closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine, his one hand tangled in my hair and his other tight around the patch of grass near my hip. 

“I’m sorry,” he grumbles and rolls away to leave me cold without him. 

“I’m not,” I reply softly. I capture his eyes with mine, my fingers moving across my lips where his touch had made my body finally feel alive. 

“I shouldn’t just attack you in the forest, Anne. I should be more of a gentleman when it - “ 

“I don’t need you to be a gentleman. I just need you to love me - “ The admission slips out of me before I can stop it and I clap my hands over my mouth, my body sitting up like a bolt. I hadn’t meant to say that. I couldn’t ask him to do that. Not now. Not before the summer was out and he left once more. We could write, yes, but nothing would come of it and I would be left here once more without him and it would be so much worse because I had asked for the world from him. 

“Anne-girl,” he breathes, his body coming up to sit next to mine. I feel the nerves shake through me and I have to look away, embarrassed at my misstep. When his chin rests on my shoulder I try to exhale the tension, chewing on the inside of my cheek until his hand finds mine in my lap. “I haven’t stopped loving you since I was a boy. I know that might be scary right now with all of the pathways before us but I need you to know that.” 

“Please don’t just say things like this. I couldn’t bear it if it wasn’t real.” Beside me I feel him shift closer, his chuckle tickling my neck. 

“This is real. We’re not imagining this. Give me a chance to show you how it could be. How it should be.” 

With my eyes closed tight I hold my breath, thoughts spinning until his thumb grazes my brow and turns me towards him. My eyes open and he’s there, a soft smile on his face and his nose brushing against mine, his lips tilting and capturing me once more.

When eventually we pull apart the sun is already low on the horizon, our hearts racing but content with the leaps and bounds we’ve made today. Somehow all we needed to reset ourselves, to find each other after all this time, was a quiet afternoon away from the realities that kept us bound. As we walk slowly back towards Green Gables, hand in hand, I try not to let the vicious doubts pick apart the small corner of happiness I’d dredged up in myself. It would be easier to pretend this never happened, to sever all ties and push him away. 

But I knew now as Gilbert bid me goodbye twice - once at the edge of the forest with a drawn out embrace and once more at the kitchen door, propriety in full force - that he would not go quietly. I see it in his eyes and the way his hands linger, in the calm way he reminds me he’ll see me tomorrow. 

This afternoon wasn’t a ‘could be’ or a ‘should have’, it was everything that we both needed to move forward once again.


	11. Chapter 11

The teaching position package arrives on a sunny day, one which finds Bash, Gilbert and myself reclining under the wide apple tree in the yard seeking shade from the blistering sun. When the postman arrives I’m half-conscious, dazed in a food-coma after an indulgent lunch of mixed fixings compiled by the two households. 

“What is it, Miss Anne?” Bash calls out as I stand struck near the gate. In the distance I see Gilbert get to his feet, his body tense as he watches me open the envelope. 

Inside I find a letter of acceptance coupled with a package about the possible accommodation options, all outlined in detail for my selection. The news is overwhelming and though I try to breathe through it, I find myself on my knees before I realize it. 

“Are you alright? Is it from the doctor?” Gilbert asks pointedly, sinking to his knees beside me. In my haze I glance towards him, holding out the letter for him to read aloud. In another second he’s leaping to his feet, pulling me up by my arms and swinging me around the yard. 

Bash soon joins in and in all the commotion Marilla comes to the front door, arms crossed as she watches us celebrate the good news. So caught up in the moment I don’t even falter when Gilbert draws me up against him, his lips crashing into mine in a breath-stealing kiss. It’s Bash’s whoop and holler that makes me come back to earth, surprise jolting through me at the very public display of affection we’d just shared. 

“I’m sorry - I couldn’t help it!” Gilbert announces, his hands coming up to bracket my cheeks. I smile through the flush on my skin and shake my head, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“It’s okay. She has been egging me on for weeks about you,” I answer brightly before pulling him back down towards me. There’s another whoop and a scolding from the porch that has me finally breaking the embrace and moving towards the house. “Marilla - I was selected for a teaching position near Carmody.” 

The woman stills, her hand coming up to her lips in surprise. For a moment I think she’s upset - that her fears are finally realized - but then tears slip down her cheeks and a wide smile breaks out across her face. With open arms and a tearful hiccup, she brings me against her in an excited hug. 

“Teaching? I could not be happier for you, Anne,” she mumbles into my ear, her hand patting my back as I cling to her tightly. 

“I’m so scared to leave you but I need to do this Marilla. Staying here is not my future and the extra income will help hire a real hand - “ 

“So you finally see it too?” She laughs, leaning back to catch my eyes. 

“You don’t have to rub it in!” I lament as I brush at my tears. “Gilbert encouraged me to apply. He thought it would be good for me to stand on my own again.”

“He did, did he? Strange that he didn’t urge you to join him in the Glen...”

“Marilla,” I hiss, looking back towards where Gilbert stands talking with Bash. 

“What? I know you two have been disappearing off together for quite some time now and while I will refrain from judging you for it, I’m unconvinced that - “ 

“Please don’t say anything - let us just figure it out, okay?” I plead, looking up at her with wide eyes. If Marilla started to bend her own rules on interfering, Rachel would be soon to follow and without trying the whole village would know about our rekindled friendship and we’d never see the end of it. 

“I’ll relent this time. But you should know you’re not being as slick as you think you are. Watchful eyes will notice,” she adds with a warning look. 

“We just need to make it to the end of the summer and then we’ll both go our own ways and - “ 

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Her question has me chewing my lip, an anxious twisting in my gut. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t really sure of anything right now. “Anyways - we can discuss it another time. For now let me return to my baking and hope I haven’t burnt the pie!” 

Marilla leaves me standing on the porch, the papers still clenched tightly in my grip as I watch Gilbert and Bash discuss something vibrantly in the yard. Could I leave him again, I wondered. The first time had hurt but that had only been a shadow of what I felt for him now - I’d still been so young and unsure and unable to process what it had all meant. But I knew better now how loss felt. The crushing ache of it that I would feel not seeing him everyday like I’d become accustomed to over the summer. 

“Shall we celebrate Miss Anne?” Bash calls out, finally noticing that I’m alone on the porch once more. I force a smile to my lips and nod, joining them with a bounce in my step as I try to push down the feelings that have crowded up inside of me. 

“We should! If only because I need something to celebrate and Minnie May’s wedding isn’t for another two weeks!” I call back with false brightness. Gilbert lifts a brow, ever observant, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and squeezing me to him. 

“Let’s go to the beach then,” he offers and we rouse ourselves into action, heading in our own directions to meet back up in an hour. 

The remainder of the day is spent in the sand, my feet dipped in the water and the sun on my brow as we play games, argue and laugh our way through the hours. When the sun sinks towards the horizon we head back to Green Gables with a contented silence, only the sound of the cart to keep us company as Gilbert steers us onward. 

Laying in bed that night I turn over the day’s events, the excitement and nervousness at writing my returning letter of acceptance, the relief I’d felt from Marilla’s support, and Gilbert’s matched thrill at seeing my success. All of it had made me feel light, like perhaps my life was starting to sort itself out for the first time in years. 

But with all things that I should be glad for, I still held too tightly to my pillow, my teeth set on the briefest of edges. Could I finally leave Green Gables? And what if the position didn’t work out? Could I come back to something and live the rest of my life here, dejected and alone once Marilla and Gilbert had both gone? 

And, though I didn’t want to confront it at the time, Gilbert’s question of if the letter had been from the doctor gave me pause. Why would the doctor have been writing us? What did Gilbert know that he hadn’t told me? 

The thought sours my mood and I twist in my sheets to pull my blanket over my head, determined to shut out the questions that kept sleep at bay long into the darkness. 

* * *

The harvest arrives almost overnight it seems. One day we were busy prepping the barn for winter storage and the next we were in over our heads with work to complete before each day was out. 

“If you would let me help - “ Marilla scolds as I pull on my boots and tuck my trousers into my socks.

“You know I’m not going to say yes. I have two strapping men waiting outside ready to spend the full day in the thirty degree heat!” I respond tightly, glancing at her with a raised brow. 

“Let me at least - “ 

“No Marilla. I won’t risk your health,” I interrupt sharply, finishing with my laces and standing up straight. The last few weeks had been touch and go for her, some days requiring her to rest after tea and others seeing her active until the sun was fully set. It had been a whirlwind of adapting and I don’t know what I would have done without Gilbert and Bash ready to help me ready the farm. 

“Fine. Fine,” she sighs and turns to head back into the kitchen. I watch her go, a pang in my chest as her shoulders sink in defeat. It had to be done but still it hurt and so I forced myself out the door and into the yard to begin the day’s work. 

Later, as I recount the story to Gilbert, I watch for hints of knowledge of something more. The question of the doctor’s note still bounced around my head in the quiet hours, despite the days where nothing had been mentioned to give me pause. 

“Perhaps she could come lead the horse? It would be within her restrictions,” he adds absently as he lifts another basket onto the cart. 

“Restrictions?” 

“Yeah - her doctor’s orders. She’s allowed…” He pauses and turns to look at where I’m leaning against the cart, his mouth shut tight. 

“What aren’t you telling me, Gilbert?” I ask evenly, glancing in the direction that Bash had gone to get more baskets. 

“Anne…” He stands up straight and follows my gaze back towards the house, one hand rising to brush the curls from his brow. 

“I have a right to know. What’s wrong with her?” 

“It isn’t tuberculosis. I promise it isn’t.” My throat tightens as he returns his gaze to mine. “The doctor - based on my notes - he thinks it might be a different type of infection. He isn’t sure either but we’re both monitoring her. It could still be bronchial inflammation for all we know.”

Before I can stop myself I’m slapping my hand against his shoulder, my body moving of its own volition to begin an outward assault. Tears cloud my eyes and hurt fury ripples through my chest as I push at him until he lifts his arms to wrap around my shoulders, trapping my arms to my sides.

“Anne - stop, please,” he pleads, his voice trying to soothe as I struggle to free myself. I couldn’t stand to be this near to him, not after his betrayal. 

“I’ll never listen to you again Gilbert Blythe! You’ve lied to me about the most important thing in my life! How can I ever trust you to tell me the truth after this? How could you do this to me? Make me think that things were alright when I was wasting time - “ 

“She told me not to tell you!” He bursts, dropping his arms and stepping back as I push abruptly at his chest. My vision blurs and angrily I wipe at my cheeks, glaring at him. 

“In all the times we sat together alone - all of the times I let you get close to me - you were lying. You’ve lied to me, you’ve been lying to me for so long. I can’t trust you anymore, Gilbert.” 

We stare at each other for a drawn out moment, our chests heaving with words neither of us will say aloud. Memories of a young girl abandoned too many times to count come flooding back and I collapse under the weight of it, my knees sinking into the dirt. Somewhere in the distance I hear Bash shouting across the field, concern colouring his words as he rushes towards us. 

Before me Gilbert crouches, his voice soft. “I didn’t want to lie to you Anne,” he whispers. I can hear the pain reflecting back at me, his hands clenching together. 

“What’s wrong?!” Bash calls, pulling me to my feet and into his embrace. “Gilbert, why would you let her sit in the dirt like that? Are you hurt Anne?” 

His kindness brings a renewed wash of tears to my eyes and I force myself to stand up straight, swallowing back my pain. “I’m okay. I think I need to go rest.” 

“Perhaps you should escort her Gil - “ 

“No,” I interject, shooting Bash a pointed look. I watch as the two men share a look, confusion clouding Bash’s expression as I wipe my hands on my pants. “If you wouldn’t mind finishing up these last few rows, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” 

I take off at a clipped pace, my goodbye still fresh on my tongue as I head back towards the house. I’m halfway there, the strained voices of the two men fading into the distance behind me, when I still. I couldn’t go into the house - Marilla would see me and I wasn’t prepared to face her. Not yet. Turning on my heel I move instead towards the barn and climb my way into the loft, sinking into the hay in the corner and letting the tears overwhelm me. 

It’s evening when I finally wake, my exhausted frame slow to descend from my hiding place as I head into the house. Inside Marilla sits calmly in the living room, stitching in hand as she rocks slowly back and forth. 

“I was wondering when you’d finish with your pity party and come home,” she greets, her stoic look making me pause. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I reply, leaning against the edge of the doorway. 

“There was nothing really to tell. You knew what we thought it was, the other possibilities didn’t need to be shared.” 

“I could have made it easier for you. I could have - “ 

“Anne, while I appreciate your protectiveness, I know how to manage my own health. I  _ am _ a grown up, you would be wise to - “ 

“What if you died? And left me alone? What am I to do then, Marilla?” I cry, my arms coming to wrap around my waist. Marilla sets her project down and comes to join me, pulling me into her tight embrace. 

“Time to calm yourself, Anne. You wouldn’t be alone,” she whispers into my ear. 

“How do I leave you now? When you may need me most?” 

Marilla’s hand settles on the back of my head, holding me against her as she sighs a rickety breath. “You must go forward. If you don’t, you’ll come to regret it. I know you will.” 

“Marilla…” I sob, my hands tangling in the back of her shirt. I couldn’t let her go. Not yet. 

“It’ll be alright.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What??? Two chapters in a row! Well buckle up darlings because I'm determined to get the rest of these posted before I peace out! Just gotta put some final touches on the remaining bits and then we're home!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubled up on this chapter to make it in time! Hope you guys enjoy this one ;)

Deep in the midst of harvest, Minnie May’s wedding brings us all back to the world of the living. Diana is the first sign of the impending event. Her arrival on my doorstep one evening, dress in hand, brings an excitement to my exhausted mind and body that I had long thought squashed. 

“You should try it on Anne,” she urges, motioning towards the staircase. We head upstairs and I’m thankful for my bath earlier as she pulls out the mint green gown, it’s lightness almost making me feel like a lump of coal. “Mother wanted to ensure you had something suitable. I know you have your own dresses and that money has been a bit tight but we both figured it would be nice - “ 

“It’s lovely, Diana,” I breathe, drifting my fingers over the lace collar and imagining myself in such a beautiful outfit. I didn’t deserve it, surely. 

“I made it for you. So you would have something nice for Gilbert,” she teases and I feel the colour rise in my cheeks, her knowing smile plastered across her face. 

I’d only told her pieces of the gulf that had opened between us. The hints of an argument, one she had assured me could be smoothed over in time. I hadn’t wanted to listen and so I’d continued on with my cold shoulder, convinced that the remaining time left was best not repairing the bridge we’d broken. If I tried it would only be more difficult to leave when the time came. 

“That’s wildly unnecessary - “ 

“It isn’t!” 

“Nothing will come of all of this, Di. You know I’m not able to forgive him - “ 

“Don’t say things like that Anne! I’ve known you long enough now to know that you do forgive, albeit in your own time, but you do eventually. This can’t be any different,” Diana groans, her hands gripping my shoulders and turning me to face her. 

“But how can I trust him now?” The last word slips from me on a broken exhale, Diana’s gaze softening as she lifts her palm to my cheek. 

“Love found its way back to you, Anne. I’m not saying it’s going to work out so easily. I’m just asking you to give it a chance to work its magic. Try on the dress - I’m not leaving until you do!” She adds before wiping away the few tears that have escaped. 

The gown hugs in all the right places, not a pinched seam or a twisted thread is noticeable as I pull my damp hair from the collar and let Diana finish the final buttons on the back. Together we stand before the mirror and take in my reflection, her chin on my shoulder as she spins wonderful romatical tales in my ear. When eventually it comes time for her to leave she does so with kind thoughts and a tight hug, her promise of seeing me tomorrow carrying me through to bed that night. 

I lay awake for hours after that, turning over every possible interaction that could come of tomorrow. Would I be able to keep my chin up if he danced with another? Could I speak to him if he approached? We’d spent the time since our argument at a cold distance - I worked mostly in the barn except when the work called me to the fields and neither of us managed to share more than a handful of words unless it was absolutely necessary. 

For all his efforts, Bash tried to help, playfully starting little debates that would die on the air between us. It hurt to shove his efforts aside but I couldn’t let the betrayal go, not when it may have cost me so much time with Marilla. He seemed to understand it too, his comforting palm resting on my shoulder after a particularly tense row that had Gilbert stalking off in the opposite direction. 

_ “He’s sorry for it, you know,” Bash had muttered, glancing at me as I twisted the hoe in my hands.  _

_ “That doesn’t make it right,” I’d responded sadly before turning back to the work.  _

The bright shine of the moon slips through my curtains and I huff, turning onto my other side and pulling my sheet over my face. I would have to face him tomorrow. To watch a wedding with him near my side. A clenching fist tightens in my chest at the thought. 

A few weeks ago I’d imagined us at the altar, our hands entwined and vows on our lips. That seemed impossible now, like a thing no longer meant for us. When the summer ended and I left that barn for the last time I would be doing it on my own, a very different picture than I’d dreamt that first night Gilbert Blythe arrived back in Avonlea. 

* * *

“Anne, we’re going to be late!” Rachel calls from below, her knuckle rapping against the stairwell. I twist the last bit of my unruly hair up into an extra pin and exhale forcefully, my sweaty palms slapping down against my thighs. 

“It’ll be over before you know it and then you can come home and wallow all you want,” I grumble into the mirror. I had promised Diana and Minnie May that I would help as a spare set of hands throughout the afternoon but a part of me, perhaps even a half of me, was ready to crawl back into bed and not come out for the rest of time. 

Reluctantly, I force myself out of my room and down the stairs, pulling up short when I see the polished shoes standing in the front hall. Without missing a beat I turn and head back upstairs, my heart in my throat and my thumb between my teeth as I try not to fall apart. 

I couldn’t see him today. I wasn’t prepared. Not yet. 

“Anne!” Rachel calls out, exasperated. Below me I can hear muffled voices and then the steady climb of shoes on the stairs. 

Gilbert’s eyes find mine as he finishes the last few steps, his mouth ajar as he takes in the sight of me. We stand paralized for a moment, his swallow almost audible as he looks me over. I feel exposed under his gaze and I force my arms to my sides, my hands resting haughtily on my hips. 

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, defensive for lack of preparedness. 

“Marilla asked - she thought you could use a driver today since it might be difficult - “ 

“To drive a cart in a dress? Really Gilbert? You think so little of my capabilities?” 

“That’s not - Anne, come on. Even you don’t believe that,” he chides in return, standing up to his full height. He wasn’t going to walk away this time, I knew that now. We were going to have this fight and be done with it. 

“You’re right. I know you’re not  _ that _ stupid. About other things though, maybe.” I shrug and he snorts with a quick shake of his head. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” I watch as he crosses his arms over his chest, the suit he wears stretching along his shoulders, too tight after a summer of heavy labour. 

“No. But I resent that you’re here - that you’ve put me in this position. I don’t want to argue with you when I need to be at the church!” 

“Then don’t argue with me. Forgive me and let’s go. You know I had no other choice. You  _ know _ I didn’t mean to hurt you and you damn well know that you’re being obstinate with this grudge!” His words make my teeth grind and I rub at my brow as he eases closer. “Anne, aren’t we here because you were angry that you might have lost time? Don’t you think we’re wasting  _ our _ remaining time with this fight?” 

I still under his gaze, his words ricocheting through my mind. He was right. Diana had been right. I would eventually forgive him and when I looked back surely I would be more angry with myself for missing these last few days, for letting us both leave without our friendship intact, than for forgiving him of something that Marilla had asked of him. 

Gilbert had only done what any well respected doctor, well respected person, would do. I had to get over myself or I could lose everything - Marilla, the farm, Gilbert - and truly be alone. 

“I don’t want to waste any more time without you,” he whispers so quietly that I have to strain to hear him over the voices downstairs. Sparing a glance in his direction I choke on my breath, my hand coming to cover my mouth as I shake my head. 

“I need you to stop breaking my heart, Gilbert Blythe,” I murmur, my eyes wide as he inches closer. 

“I guess it’s good that I’m a doctor then, since I know a thing or two about healing them?” His breath fans across my brow and I tilt my head to catch his eyes, a hint of a smile finally breaking through. It’s all he needs to wrap himself around me, his chin tucking against my shoulder as his hands press me tightly against his chest. 

I feel the tension I’ve been holding slip from me, the fierce knot in my chest starting to ease as I wrap my arms around him in turn. We remain wrapped up together, lips stealing brief kisses and fingers grazing across skin until we hear a sound from the staircase that forces us apart. With wet cheeks and a measured smile I greet Rachel as she comes to the top of the stairs, a look of distaste on her face. 

“Young lady, if you were any other girl I would send you to the convent! We’ve got a wedding to attend, or have you forgotten?” Her shrill voice has us scurrying by her, down the stairs and out to where Bash and Marilla are already waiting with the carriage. 

“She didn’t kill you then?” Bash jokes to Gilbert, helping Marilla up the step. 

“I still might,” I reply quickly and the man laughs, a hearty sound that follows me up to my seat at the front. 

“There will be no killing of anyone today,” Marilla breaks in as Rachel climbs in beside her and huffs out her annoyance at having to ‘collect the children’. 

Beside me Gilbert grabs up the reigns and steers us through the gate, Bash climbing up quickly once the latch is set. I try to ignore the heat of Gilbert beside me, certain that I was like a fiend for wanting more time alone with him after my self-imposed distance. But as we turn the bend at the end of the lane, I can’t help but notice him inch closer, his thigh bumping into mine on the bench. 

“You’re awfully close there, Dr Blythe,” I say lowly so that only he can hear me above the conversation behind us. 

“Not close enough, if I had my way, Anne-girl,” he whispers in return, his knee playfully knocking into me. I press my own leg back and lean against his side, dropping my hand to his leg and patting it gently before tucking my hands back in my lap. Above me I hear him exhale shakily, a chuckle falling out of him as he presses a distracted kiss to my brow. 

My heart stalls at the contact and I wish we were alone, Rachel’s lament about our public display making me ease myself back a distance until the conversation returns to her expectations about the event. Maybe it was the wedding, the bright sky overhead or the way Gilbert’s hand found mine so easily, but I felt relief for the first time in a long while as we rode towards the church. 

* * *

The ceremony is lovely. I watch from the pew as the couple share their vows, the romantic spirit inside of me lighting up at the scene. When together they walk down the aisle, Diana and the rest of the bridal party following behind them, I find myself cheering in a most unladylike manner. Tears fill my eyes and eventually I feel Gilbert’s hand on my hip, a silent comfort reminding me he’s there as the community starts to spill out into the yard. 

Chaos ensues as the gathering moves to the Barry homestead, a celebration setup that requires my full attention. Mrs Barry and Diana are quick to jump into action, dividing up responsibilities and sending me to help everyone find their seats. 

When eventually I collapse into my own chair it’s with a huff of breath and my hair starting to unravel, Marilla and Rachel sharing a laugh at my expense. 

“You look as though you’ve never worked harder,” Marilla chuckles, a shake of her head as I send her a disparaging look. 

“You’ve no idea how particular some people are until they have to conform to someone else’s requests!” I lament in return. The two women roll their eyes and I’m saved from further harassment by Bash and Gilbert finally joining us at the table. 

Conversation flows and the meal disappears before us, the mood of the evening carrying me on cloud nine as soon the sun drops below the horizon. I’m pulled back into the coordination fray when a panicked Diana barrels over to us, insisting that Gilbert and I set about lighting the lanterns scattered throughout the yard. 

“Perhaps we can escape after? Just the two of us?” Gilbert whispers to me as he takes the matches from the frazzled woman. 

“Yes, please,” I reply softly, sparing a look towards him. His wide smile greets mine and we set to our task with a surprising efficiency, eventually arriving at the last lantern together. “Where would you like to go, Dr Blythe?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he quips, grabbing at my hand and leading us around the edge of the house and into the shadows. Before long we’re slinking towards the hedges, finding ourselves tucked into the privacy of the yard where a low stone wall separates the Barry property from Green Gables. 

It’s hidden in the thin treeline that we come upon a few stray lanterns, the glow of light giving us a secluded getaway from the party just beyond the house. 

“It’s magical,” I whisper as I turn towards Gilbert, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. His hands come to rest on my hips and he guides us back until we’re pressed into the wall, his movements helping me to sit atop the highest stone so that I’m more in line with him. 

We stare at each other for a silent moment, the sounds of the celebration mixing with that of the night and our careful breaths. Gilbert is the first to give in, his head dipping until his lips find mine in a slow kiss. I let my reservations go and I lean into his embrace, pulling him down towards me until we’re chest to chest, hands grappling for more of one another until there’s no space left between us. 

Time escapes our world and I revel in his lips on my collar, my hands in his hair, his small sounds of delight as I exhale on a low moan. 

“You’ve got me spellbound,” he murmurs into my ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe as my hands snake up his chest to give me a moment to recover. “I’ve dreamed of you for years. Of having you in my arms and being able to call you mine…” 

“Gil,” I sigh, holding myself at bay. I was getting lost in him, in his touch, and I knew if I wasn’t careful I would disappear into wanting him and I’d never make it to Carmody. God, did I even still want to teach?

_ Yes _ . My mind shouts at the thought, stilling my movements. Gilbert stops his ministrations and eases back, his eyes finding mine in the low light. 

“What changed?” He breathes, his hand coming up to brush a loose piece of hair from my brow. Ever perceptive, he could sense the way the tension had begun to ease back in as reality started coming back to me. 

“I accepted that teaching position, remember? I need to fulfill that promise. For the school. And… For me, I think,” I admit softly. Half expecting him to withdraw, to place a distance between us, he surprises me by only drifting closer, his hands finding mine in my lap. 

“I know. That doesn’t change how I feel, it only changes how we go forward. As long as we’re together - “ 

“But we’ll be miles apart, Gil,” I groan, glancing away so that he doesn’t catch the tears in my eyes. 

“That doesn’t matter to me. I asked you before you were even offered the position if you would write to me and you said yes. I’m okay with that until we can find you something closer or - “ 

“Or what?” I ask breathlessly, turning back to face him head on. He stills, the bobbing of his adam’s apple belying his calm demeanor. 

It was here I knew he would pause. He hadn’t been back long enough to know me as the person I’d become since I was a girl, not truly at least. And though he could say he was willing to write, we both knew there was no promise in that. I needed more. I needed to know when we lived apart again that he wasn’t going to find someone else, not when I was certain I would wait until I could be with him again. I didn’t want to be left behind and caught off guard. I’d rather know now if that was how it was going to be. 

“Anne,” he exclaims, the urgency of his words making me jump. When I look up his expression is frozen, disbelief edged on his features. “Anne, look!”

I turn in my spot to see a bright light over the hedge behind me, a billow of smoke rising towards the sky. 

Green Gables was over that hedge and something over that hedge was on fire. 

“Go get the others! I think Green Gables is on fire!” Gilbert orders, pulling back from me abruptly. 

Grabbing at his arms, I turn him back to face me. “You can’t go by yourself!” I shout as he tries to pull away again. 

“You need to go get help! I won’t do anything stupid, I promise!“ I cut off his words by dragging him down to my level, my lips crashing into his in a desperate kiss. 

“I love you, Gilbert,” I whisper urgently, breaking away from him and trying to control my racing heart. “Go. Go! We’ll be there in a minute!” 

We head in opposite directions, me back towards the party and Gilbert taking off over the wall, a quick pace having him disappearing over the hill before I round the edge of the house. 

“Fire!” I shout as I crash back into the fray, disrupting the band as I stumble into our table and grab at Bash’s arm. “Green Gables is on fire, we need to go!” 

Panic breaks out as the men of the party take off through the shrubbery and over the hill towards where the halo of light brightens the night sky. I urge the women to stay and gather supplies, filling the carts one after another as someone rings the fire bell behind us. 

Minutes, maybe hours, pass before my loaded cart arrives over the crest of the hill and I find the barn alive with flames. Men are scattered in every direction tossing buckets of water from the well on the growing beast. I know instantly that there’s no saving the structure - there’s too much summer hay and discarded fuel inside to give it a fighting chance. The farm was seeing it’s end, that I was sure of as I pulled through the gate. 

“We need to dampen the house!” I shout as I jump from the carriage and join the chaos. “It’s been too dry, we need to prevent the fire from spreading!” 

The few men around me ignore my call, continuing their efforts on dousing the ground level flames that they can reach. Frustrated, angry, I skirt through the crowd until I find Billy Andrews and drag his collar down so he looks at me head on. 

“Listen to me Billy - we need to protect the house. The barn is already gone. Make the men soak the house!” I shout above the roar. Billy’s eyes widen and stunned, he begins to order some of the men to redirect their efforts towards the other building. 

I work until there’s nothing left to do but watch, turning my attention instead to finding Gilbert among the smoke covered faces. Concern rolls in my gut as I work through the crowd, shouting for him above the noise. When he’s nowhere to be found near the house I head back towards the barn, ignoring the burn of the air as I move closer in my search. 

“Anne! What are you doing here?” Bash shouts, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to focus on him. 

“Where’s Gilbert?” 

“I thought he was with you!” Bash returns, standing up to look around us anxiously. I twist free of his grip and return to my search, worry bursting within me. I’m halfway around the edge of the barn when I see a frame leaning over something, Gilbert’s white shirt blackened from the smoke. 

“Gil!” I scream across the yard, snaking around the fence towards him. Bash runs alongside me and when we come upon Gilbert he stills, looking down at the boy on the ground at his feet. 

“Is he okay?” Bash questions. I drop to my knees beside them, the heat of the barn making me sweat as Gilbert continues counting and pressing on the boy’s chest. 

“I think he’s inhaled a lot of smoke,” Gilbert growls, not sparing a look towards us as he leans down to blow air into the boy’s mouth. 

“What can I do to help?” I urge, looking between the two men. 

“We need to move, Gilbert - “ Bash interjects and Gilbert shoots a withering glance at him. 

“We can’t - we need to get him back!” Gilbert snaps. 

“The building - Gilbert - it’s leaning towards us. We need to move!” Bash continues and bends to grab the boy’s arms. Gilbert bats him away, continuing his repetitive motions. Bash’s words grow more urgent and I look up towards what remains of the barn, it’s wall buckling under the intense heat. 

“Gil - Gil we need to go! Bash is right!” I shout and scurry to my feet. In my haste to stand I grab at Gilbert’s arm and yank, giving Bash the chance to grab the boy and toss him over his shoulder. 

“Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Gilbert demands, breaking from my grip. 

“We’re all dead if we don’t move! Now come on!” Bash replies and jogs away from where we stand. I pull at Gilbert’s arm, urging him to follow me out of the dangerous spot. 

“He’s going to kill him,” Gilbert hisses. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed Gilbert! You’re going to just stand here and - “ Behind us the structure releases a violent crack and I yelp as sparks hit my face, my arm coming up to block the flames. 

“Anne!” Like a bolt of lightning, his focus changes and he pulls me into his chest, protecting me from the fire as we run from the collapsing wall. We make it out of range just as the whole building comes falling to the ground in a spectacular display of tragedy and destruction. 

“What were you doing?” Marilla shouts, grabbing me from Gilbert’s arms and drawing me into her embrace in a bone crushing hug. “You know better Anne!” 

“I was trying to get - “ I stop, looking around us to where Gilbert has sunk back down to the ground, his attention focused solely on the boy sprawled across the grass. “Marilla, I think we need to get some smelling salts. Some water too. And a blanket - can you get them from the house?” 

The woman nods and disappears as I join Gilbert’s side, watching as he repeats his motions. When after a moment I think I understand the pattern I take over the breaths Gilbert had been giving, counting the motions and working in stride with him to help save the boy. 

A body-quaking cough erupts after the third breath I give, the boy’s small frame curling in on itself as he rolls onto his side. Gilbert helps him settle, giving him quiet instructions as the crowd stands and watches on. Marilla returns a few moments later, supplies ready to wrap him up and bring him inside and onto the couch. Somewhere in the distance I hear Rachel giving orders from the porch, sending people home or giving them tasks to help douse the rest of the flames from the fallen barn. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Marilla asks as Gilbert tends to the burns with cool water. 

“We’ll see if he makes it through the night. He was unconscious for a long while,” he admits lowly. I watch from a marked distance, my arms wrapped around my waist with Bash at my side. Neither of us were prepared to discuss how close we’d come to almost losing the foolish doctor before us. 

“Why don’t I help you get settled in the guest room?” Marilla gestures to Bash, motioning for him to follow her through the kitchen. When they’ve both gone I inch closer to Gilbert, tentative as I watch him move through his practice. 

It’s Gilbert’s broken look and still hands that moves me finally forward, taking his palms in mine and leading him towards the kitchen. We’re left in peace as I wet a cloth and settle him onto the bench, my touch gentle as I wipe the smoke from his face. 

“You scared me,” I whisper later, as we sit on the floor and watch the boy sleep on the couch. 

“I didn’t realize - I’m sorry,” he answers softly. I glance at him through the corner of my eyes, half expecting to see the stoic mask he’d warn throughout the turmoil still in place. But all I see when I look at him is the echo of hurt in his expression, one that tells me he’s seen suffering like this before. 

“It’s okay,” I state, reaching for his hand. The small phrase seems to break through his shell and I twist to face him more fully. “It’s okay, Gilbert,” I repeat. I say it again. And again. And again until I’ve wrapped him up in my arms and pressed him to my chest. 

Tears soak my ruined dress and I press a kiss to his forehead, determined to give him comfort as he fights through the remnants of adrenaline. Eventually, we fall asleep with a blanket strewn across our legs, exhaustion overcoming us and pulling us under. 


	13. Chapter 13

I wake the next morning to see the edges of morning sunlight breaking through the windows, Gilbert already at work tending to the boy who is somehow managing to sit up on his own. 

“And after your father set the fire, where did he go?” Gilbert asks, unassuming as the boy twists his hands anxiously in his lap.

“I think he went back into the barn to get something he forgot. I can’t remember.” 

“Do you remember why he wanted to set the fire? Did he talk to you about that?” Gilbert presses. He glances towards me with a tight look, a furrow deep in his brow. 

“He didn’t like that the girl didn’t hire us. Especially, he said, when she hired a coloured man instead of us. It made him angry.” 

The words strike me like a blow and then the pieces start to click together, one by one. The boy who I didn’t hire in the spring. The man who set me on edge as soon as Gilbert and I found even ground. Bash. Beautiful, friendly and kindred spirit Bash. All of the strange things that had happened in the past few months - the cows getting loose, the plow and Marilla’s incident - all of it traced back to this boy and his father, upset that I had turned them away. Bile rises in my throat and I cover my face to hide the scream I want to let escape. 

Green Gables had been robbed of its profitability. Of its livelihood. For what? Because a man was angry? Because he hated what I represented as a woman, as someone who treated everyone the same no matter their skin tone? Bash could never know - it would destroy him. I was angry. Furious even. But more than that I was struck by the question that faced me now.

What would Marilla and I do now without the farm? There was no loft for me to escape to and I could no longer hide from the choices that lay before us. I had to see the future for what it was and no longer what it could be - I had to choose to live a life outside of that barn, once and for all. 

“I’m sorry he made you come with him. He should have let you stay home with your mom,” Gilbert breaks into my raging thoughts, his expression softening. The boy was so young… I couldn’t hold him responsible for this. For any of this. I had to remember that even though it hurt to think of it. 

“I didn’t want to help. I’m sorry I did. I just wanted to make sure my dad was okay,” the boy adds, starting to cry. I go to him then, pushing through my own misery and wrapping him up in my arms. For a moment he stills, uncertain, but then gives in to my embrace and wraps his arms around my neck. 

The day happens in a blur as reports are filed and the boy is collected by his apologetic mother. It’s late afternoon when the remains of the boy’s father are located in the rubble, the sight of it making me cringe as he’s loaded into a carriage and driven away. By evening the people have gone, the house is quiet and all who remain are Marilla and myself, two souls uncertain of what comes next as we sit around the dinner table. 

“Where did you and Gilbert escape to yesterday? Before… Everything?” Marilla asks halfway through her stew, her gaze centered on the table between us. I shift in my seat, remembering the way we’d been so wrapped up in one another. 

“We needed to have a conversation in private is all,” I answer meekly, averting my gaze. Her returning hum confirms her suspicions and she chuckles, shaking her head. 

“You two think you’re being so smooth. Have you figured out how you’ll manage the coming school year?” 

“No. We haven’t had a chance to talk - “ 

“Oh? Didn’t you say you had a conversation - “ 

“Marilla, please,” I beg, finally looking across the table at her. She meets my gaze head on and smiles softly. 

“You deserve happiness Anne. I’ve spent years trying to teach you that. To give you every opportunity to pursue your dreams, to find your passions and make a life for yourself, and now I just want to ensure you don’t miss out on this because you’re too stubborn - “ 

“I love him. I do,” I interrupt, finally admitting it to her. “I just need a minute to figure it out without the rug being pulled out from underneath me. And you and Rachel and Diana need to give me that minute. Please.” 

Marilla sits back, stunned, before a wide smile breaks out across her face. “I’m very glad to hear that. I’ll do what I can to keep us in check. But do hurry up - if I remember correctly you need to leave for the position by the end of the week if you’re going to have time to settle.” 

“Marilla,” I warn, shaking my head. We return to our stew and I manage a few more bites before the silence starts getting to me. “What will you do when I leave?” 

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot. We’ve still got the house and Rachel claims there’s a leak in hers so her plan has changed - she’s hoping to move in here afterwards. Figures it’ll keep you from cursing her forever if this place stays available to you. What do you think of that?” Marilla finishes, setting down her spoon and waiting as I let the news sink in. 

“You’ll keep Green Gables then? At least for now?” I ask, watching as she nods. “I think that’s an excellent idea. I would very much like to come home on the breaks if you’ll have me - “ 

“This is your home, Anne, of course you can come back. But don’t you want to visit Gilbert on your vacations?” She asks softly, bringing the difficult question back to the forefront. 

“I do. But what if it’s really an infection? What if you’ve only go so much time left?” The questions creak out of me and I keep my gaze on the ground, my breaths painful in my chest. Above me I hear the scrape of her bench, her warm frame coming to wrap around me in a rare hug. Marilla wasn’t affectionate but she knew when she needed to be and I revelled in her embrace now. 

“We’ve had almost a lifetime together, Anne. And I’ve still got a few years left in me, of that I’m sure. But you shouldn’t waste anymore time not being with that boy.” Tears escape and I hold her tighter, her own body tense as she tries to hold back from crying. 

“Thank you for everything. For keeping me and supporting me, even when I was a bit much - “ 

“Oh and you were a handful!” She chides jokingly. We laugh through our tears, leaning back to look at one another. 

“I love you Marilla.” She smiles tightly and lifts her hand to my brow, her thumb wiping the tears from my eyes. 

“I love you too, Anne. You’ll always have a place with me.” Nodding, I pull her back against me and try to focus on the path forward.

\---

In the days after the fire, the community offers to rebuild Green Gables’ barn. We opt for a smaller structure that would house more self-sufficient animals - things Marilla and Rachel could maintain themselves - and offer the farm lands to Bash and a few remaining neighbours on a promise to return some profits from the first year’s harvest as rent. Gilbert leads the construction effort and I take to selling the non-essential equipment, travelling back and forth to town with new items to post at the market. 

By Friday the affairs I’d spent the past two years getting in order are settled, or at least promised to be, and I find myself sitting in the afternoon sun watching as the final planks are nailed in place on the new building. 

I had not imagined this possible during the spring, that so much would change in only a few months. Back then I was sure it was our last season for a whole different reason, the threat of being destitute forcing me to cling to what I had thought was my only way forward. But then Gilbert returned and he dragged me out of the barn, back into the living world that I’d been hiding from. I’d found a new solace, a new hope, in his company and now I was moving towards a different future than what I had considered before. 

On Saturday Gilbert and I would travel to the new village where we would settle me in my new accommodations, the small cottage near the schoolhouse where I would spend the coming year. After we would head to the train station where I would watch him climb onto a train and travel once more to a place where I wouldn’t see him every day. 

Just the thought of it pained me. Carmody wasn’t far from Avonlea - I could come see Marilla often - but the Glen was not a carriage ride away. It would be months before I saw him again. 

“I thought you’d be happy with it being finished before you left?” Gilbert sighs, startling me as he comes around and settles under the tree at my side. 

“I am. I was sad for a whole other reason,” I admit, leaning against him and exhaling in relief when he wraps his arm around my shoulders. Against his chest, the heady smell of him mixed with the late summer blooms, I let my eyes close as I try to imagine a future past the coming year. 

Would we still be destined for one another? Would he wait for me like I waited for him? The questions rattled my certainty and I lift my head to look at him, his profile beautiful in the afternoon sun. 

“I want to ask you something, Anne,” he says lowly. I hum to urge him to speak, afraid to trust my words. “When I come to collect you from the cottage in the spring, will you come with me back to the Glen? To stay?” 

I feel his heart race, his breaths short as he looks down at me with a tentative smile on his lips. Inside, my own heart is beating nearly out of my chest, my eyes wide as my mouth struggles to form words. 

“We can of course come here to visit first! I wouldn’t ask you to not see Marilla before you moved further away but I had hoped - “ 

“Where will I stay? In the Glen?” I question, our gazes locked. 

“With me. I hope you’ll stay with me as my wife,” he breathes before shifting abruptly, knocking me loose as he struggles to slip his hand into his pocket. When he’s found what he’s looking for he shifts anxiously to his knees, looking down at me with wide eyes. “Anne Shirley Cuthbert, will you join me on this next adventure? Love me and build a life with me, equal partners in whatever we face?” 

I nod because it’s all I can manage, watching with rapt attention as he opens the box and slips the ring on my finger. When it’s settled in place with a nervous laugh shared between us, the dam seems to break and I burst from my spot, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his. In my haste we tumble backwards onto the ground and I find myself atop him, propriety thrown out the window as I string kisses across his face and neck. 

“Yes, Gilbert. Yes one thousand times,” I whisper, eventually coming to slow my assault and ease myself down against him. The world around us slips away and all that remains is only us, his hands in my hair and his taste on my tongue. 

When eventually we do part - Bash’s low whistle startling us back to the present - we get to our feet and brush the grass from ourselves, steadying our hearts before sharing the news with Marilla.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, a prologue if you will. Thank you all for sticking with me, I love how much you love this story <3

“This is our home?” I murmur as our cart rounds the bend, coming upon a little house at the edge of the sea. Gilbert had shown me the place before - a few trips ago at least - and I’d mentioned how I felt at peace in its yard, the roar of the waves keeping me company as we looked out across the point. 

He hadn’t mentioned he’d bought it though, and when I twist to look at him, eyes wide, he can only smile in return. 

“Yes. It’s ours. I’ve done some work on it but it’ll need - “ I still his words with my lips, drawing him against me and nearly steering us off the road. “I take that as a good sign?” He chuckles when I pull away, excitement running through me. 

“An emphatic yes!” I reply, grabbing his hand and holding tight to it as we pull up into the yard. 

Gilbert helps me down from the carriage, letting me step my feet onto the ground before immediately scooping me up in his arms. With ease he carries me through the front door of the house, bumping into walls as he gets distracted with my touch. 

My nerves spark as he leads me to our bedroom, the view from the window nearly stopping my heart in my chest. 

“Do you like it?” Gilbert asks from behind me, his arms coming to wrap around my waist and hold me to him. 

“It’s wonderful, Gilbert. It’s absolutely beautiful.” Twisting in his arms I reach up and guide his head down to mine, losing myself in his kiss as we stand married in the window of the house of our dreams. 

Not much is spoken after that. Gilbert guides me to the bed and begins his slow advance, removing first my boots and stockings, his touch tickling at my thighs. When all that remains are my undergarments I still, watching as he slowly begins releasing the buttons of his shirt. We’d waited over a year for this moment - maybe we’d been waiting for all our lives - and now that it was here I wanted to savour every second. 

Exposed, two souls laying together on our new bed, I sigh as hands explore and our eyes drink in sights never seen before. I’m the first to whimper under his touch as his fingers graze along my hip and dip across my belly. Gilbert seizes the sound and nudges his nose with mine, guiding our mouths once more together to steal the breath from my lungs. 

With his body hovering over mine I welcome him into my embrace, a possessive leg coming to loop around his. A laugh escapes him, dissolving into a groan as his hands slide mine overhead. 

“I love you, Anne-girl,” he whispers into my ear as my body craves more of his touch. 

“I love you too, Gil,” I reply softly and pause, urging his lips back to mine. In another second we’re joined and I feel as though I’ve never been as complete as I am in that moment, with my name on his lips and his body cradled in mine. 

He doesn’t last long after that. Too much pent up excitement and long-wanted needs have him falling apart against me, within me, and I hold him to my chest as he fights to catch his breath. Not once does he seek to ease away, especially when he finds me still wanting, his touch grazing over the sensitive parts of me until he finds the secret spot that makes me keen. 

Gilbert brings me over the edge, his lips on my neck and his hand between my legs as I twist and cry out like a wild thing finally set loose. Coming down from my high takes minutes, possibly hours, and somehow we both seem to end up asleep until the sun hovers low on the horizon. 

Later, with our things finally brought in from outside and the horse safely turned out for the night, we climb once more into our marriage bed, tangling our bodies together as we nuzzle and nip at one another. 

“You know, a year ago you told me Green Gables didn’t need to be the only home I ever had,” I state, the low light of the room building a cocoon around us. 

“And does this feel like your home then?” He counters softly, a thumb sliding across my brow as his eyes hold mine. 

“Not yet. But you do, Gil. You feel like home.”


End file.
